


Forty Extra Years

by benchofindigo



Series: Reincarnation Au [1]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Reincarnation AU, being a pefect couple, but entire focus is on James and Thomas' relationship, hopefully cute too, in the twentieth century, just James and Thomas living a life together, kind of sad, so there is mentions of silverflint in this one, this is a prequel to my modern reincarnation silverflint fic, without people trying to kill them, yet also hopeful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:12:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7050490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benchofindigo/pseuds/benchofindigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During WW2 James runs into a boy named Thomas. He doesn't remember who he is, or what he had meant to him, but a connection is born instantly. </p><p>This is their second chance at happiness together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's be happy together

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in the tags, this will be a prequel to the silverflint reincarnation au which I will be posting in the next couple of days.
> 
> All mistakes are my own, but I would like to take this opportunity to invite those who read this fic to critique my work and let me know what you did not like about it, and why if possible, so that I can find out what I need to work on :)  
> You can also let me know through my tumblr @benchofindigo if you want to do it anonymously.   
> (you can also say what you liked too... having some positive reinforcement would be nice as well lol)
> 
> Thanks!!

_He runs and runs, not stopping until his legs can no longer carry him. There he collapses to the cold hard ground, curling in on himself and letting out little sobs that shake his whole body. He hates this place, hates the stupid family that he is sent to live with, hates the dirt, the cold, hates everything. He misses his mom and dad, misses their smiles and laughter, and most of all their hugs. Why was he sent away from them?_

_They told him it was to keep him safe; they said it was to keep him from getting hurt. The bruises that litter his skin don’t feel like safety though. He doesn’t understand._

_The thing the boy does not understand is that this is how it always is. It is a never-ending cycle of pain and suffering that repeats over and over again — he has just not remembered yet. There is no escape, there is no hope; he is, perhaps, destined to lead a path of darkness for all eternity._

_Then he meets a boy in the woods and things change._

1940

The boy was holding a stick and looked to be a couple of years older than him. In his mind’s eye he saw the belt the man had used on him the other day; his first instinct was to get away. Slowly, he started backpedaling, but then his back encountered a tree and he froze. He was trapped, and there was no one around that would help him.

“Hey, don’t be scared.” The boy said, slowly lowering the stick to the ground and walking forward as one would towards a distressed animal. Perhaps that is what he looked like to the other boy. The family he was with did call him a rat after all. “My name’s Thomas, what’s yours?”

Thomas knelt down in front of him and held out his hand. He looked down at it, then up into the boy’s eyes. They were a bright blue that glittered in the soft glow of the sunlight that managed to get through the tree’s branches. They seemed familiar in some way and that immediately comforted him. With a tentative smile he reached out and shook the offered hand. “James,” he said.

A wide grin broke over Thomas’ face and he plopped down beside James. “Nice to meet you James, now do you mind telling me what’s wrong?” James immediately sobered up again. It was all too confusing to even begin explaining. He was told he was supposed to be grateful that a family had taken him in, be thankful that he was away from the dangers of this thing they call a war. He didn’t feel grateful though, instead he just felt upset and angry, oh, and abandoned.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. How about let’s start with something easier?” Thomas paused and seemed to think things over before breaking out into another wide smile. “How about we start with how old you are? Can you tell me that?”

Thomas had a comforting voice with a calming aura around him, and for the first time in days, James felt a sense of ease. James gave a tentative smile and held out five fingers. Thomas grinned in return and reached out to grasp those fingers in his own. A sense of rightness and security flowed through him. “Five! Well I’m seven, so do you know what that means?” James shook his head, hanging onto Thomas’ every word, already feeling enamoured. “It means that I’m the boss since I’m the oldest.”

James giggled. “No you’re not.”

“Yes I am! Come, let’s go find some frogs,” Thomas said, hauling James up to his feet and racing over to pick up his stick again. James followed along excitedly, his previous mood already long forgotten.

It wasn’t till later when the sun was dripping low and James and Thomas were covered in dirt that James realized how much trouble he was going to be in. The family he was staying with was most likely going to beat him for getting his clothes dirty and send him to bed without food. James started to panic, and before he knew it, big fat tears started rolling down his cheeks.

Thomas gasped and ran over, pulling him into a hug. “Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t cry.”

“I… I m-miss my mom,” James said, clinging onto the other boy.

“Well, let’s go back to her then. Where abouts do you live?”

James shook his head. “London.”

Understanding dawned on Thomas, and his face fell in a pained expression. “Oh.” He seemed to understand what James did not.

“I don’t want to get hurt,” James mumbled into Thomas’ chest. At least the tears had started to subside. The arms around James tightened and when Thomas spoke again, his voice was high and tense, like he was trying to hold himself back for some reason.

“Where do you live right now?”

“With the Collins.”

“And do they hurt you?” Thomas asked, pulling back and looking James straight in the eye. James shifted from foot to foot, he was not used to having such attention placed on him so directly. He nodded mutely. A dark shadow passed over Thomas’ face, but it quickly dissipated. “Do you have many personal items over there?”

James shook his head again. “J-just some clothes… and my bear,” he added with a small voice.

Thomas nodded. “Right, then come along. Lead the way to the Collins. We have a bear to save.”

James looked up at Thomas with wide eyes as he led them out of the forest. He was confused as to why they needed to save his bear, but he followed the older boy nonetheless. He knew his mother had told him to be wary of strangers, but Thomas was nice and wasn’t mean to him so he must be good. Much better than the mean Collins and their mean rules.

When they reached the house Thomas knelt down and beckoned for James to do the same. Together they crept around the building towards the back door. The sounds of the couple arguing inside echoed against the night air, making James shudder. They always argued and did so long into the night, keeping James up into the late hours.

They reached the side of the house and Thomas stopped, pushing James against the wall. “You stay here and wait for me. If one of them comes outside you run back to the forest, alright?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. If all goes well I should be back in less than five minutes, okay? Do you know how long a minute is?” James shook his head. “It’s sixty seconds. Count to sixty, five times and by the time that’s done I will be back. Promise.”

James nodded his head, too terrified to tell Thomas that he wasn’t sure he could count all the way to sixty. Thomas gave him a tight hug, then quickly crept around the corner and vanished. James immediately felt exposed sitting there against the house. The wife could come outside any second and find him sitting there, or worse the husband would. He would surely be lashed or worse. His heart started beating painfully in his chest and then another horrible thought crossed his mind. What if they caught Thomas? Who knew what they would do to him. His breath now came out in fast little huffs and he could feel himself getting lightheaded. What had Thomas said? Oh right, he was supposed to be counting, but how much time had passed?

He desperately started counting up in his head, but he kept on losing count, stumbling over the numbers and not remembering where he had left off. There was the sound of a plate crashing inside followed by curses and more yelling. James jumped to his feet, filled with worry. _They had caught Thomas._

A hand came down on his shoulder. “Hey.”

James jumped a foot in the air and let out a shriek. Another hand was immediately clamped over his mouth. James would have died right there from a heart attack if he hadn’t noticed the blue eyes staring at him in concern. “Come on,” Thomas whispered, “let’s get out of here.”

Relief flooded James’ veins and he jumped into Thomas’ arms, hugging fiercely. Thomas let out a low chuckle and gave an awkward hug in return, his reach impeded by the bag he was holding. James pulled back with a frown before recognizing the bag— it was his! Thomas gave a toothy grin. “I’ve got your stuff. Now come on, before they figure out what’s happened.” Holding out his spare hand, he grabbed James’ hand and pulled him away from that horrid house.

James didn’t know where he was going or what was going to happen to him, but he followed along happily, knowing that whatever happened, Thomas would look after him.  

 

1943

It turned out that Thomas’ family owned a summer home out in the countryside and that was where his family had decided to reside during the war. Thomas’ father was a high ranking politician in Britain so he was rarely there, meaning it was just Thomas and his mother for the most part, along with the help. Thankfully, Sir Hamilton had not been around when Thomas had brought young James home to stay with them and by the time he had returned, James was already a member of the family, and Thomas’ mother would not let James be thrown out.

Over the next three years Thomas and James grew inseparable. They did everything together from playing, eating, to even their studies. James was a quick learner and with Thomas’ help soon caught up to the level Thomas was at, despite being two years behind. Things were actually going pretty good for James despite the war going on, but things were quickly going to take a downturn.

One day, Thomas’ mom called James into the study room, closing the door behind him. James stared at the door in confusion. He couldn’t remember ever having a conversation with just her on their own. Thomas or someone else was usually always present.

“Sit down James,” she said, walking around to the desk and sitting down as well.

James tentatively sat down in the chair and looked at her expectantly. “Did I do something wrong?” he asked in a small voice.

She gave a pained smile and shook her head. “No child, you did nothing wrong. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

James frowned— if there was bad news than shouldn’t Thomas be here as well?

“I’ve received word from your mother,” Thomas’ mother said, looking down at a letter. “Your father was shot and killed in the trenches last week. I’m sorry.”

James stared at her in confusion. “No he wasn’t. I just received a letter from him two days ago. He’s fine.”

Thomas’ mother swallowed sharply, getting up and walking around towards him. “During times of war it takes a couple of weeks, minimum, for a letter to get from the front lines to their family back home. He sent that long before he was killed. I’m sorry.”

Irritation washed over James. He was upset to say the least and a bit peeved. His father couldn’t be dead, in his letter he had said he was fine and that he would be home soon. His father always kept his promises. “You’re lying.”

“James, I know this is hard for you to understand, but I’m telling the truth. Here,” she said, holding out the letter, “you can take a look.”

With shaking hands, James took the letter and stared down at the shaky writing littering the page. It was his mother’s writing alright, but not in its usual neat print. No, the letters and words were skewed and trailing, the page also looked like it was stained with tear drops. Scanning over the letter, the words Jacob McGraw and death stood out to him. They repeated over and over in James brain and seemed to be burned into his skull.

Hot rage filled his body and he threw the paper at Thomas’ mother. “LIES!”

“James!”

James grabbed a glass and threw it across the room. It shattered into a million pieces, but James didn’t care. Ignoring her shouts, he raced out of the room and out of the house. Rushing through the fields he ran and ran until he was out of breath, then he dropped to his knees and screamed. The scream hardly made any impact in the wide sprawling field that stretched out as far as the eye could see, showcasing how insignificant he really was.

He stayed there kneeling amidst the bushes and rocks, struggling to figure out a way to make sense of what was happening in his mind. He couldn’t believe that his father was dead, yet all the evidence pointed to that being the truth. It just didn’t make sense.

“James?” James whipped around. Sure enough, there stood Thomas, pity lacing his features. “I’m sorry, mom told me what happened.”

For some reason this bothered James. “Oh mommy told you? Mommy told you how your poor charity case of a child lost his father in the trenches. Must make you feel so high and mighty doesn’t it? To have a father who gets to sit in his big desk back in London and not be affected by the war going on.”

Tears started running down Thomas’ cheeks, but James couldn’t stop now. All his anger was spewing out and he couldn’t stop it. “ _My_ father goes out and risks his life for this damn country and what does he get for it? A fucking nameless grave that no one remembers. _Your_ father? When he dies the whole world will know and offer their condolences. For what? He didn’t do jack shit.”

“You’re right,” Thomas said in a low voice, taking a small step towards James, but James backed away.

“It’s because of people like your father that this war is happening. If this war hadn’t happened I would be back home with my family, my dad would be alive and I would be happy.”

Thomas inhaled sharply and stopped moving.

“I would be fucking happy…” James trailed off, hatred and rage filling every fibre of his being. He screamed again, kicking at a rock. “I HATE THIS PLACE. I HATE THIS COUNTRY, I HATE THIS WAR, I HATE YOUR FATHER, I HATE… I HATE…” James trailed off heaving, watching Thomas.

Thomas stood there stoically, tears still shining in his eyes. “Say it.” James shook his head, words caught in his throat. “I know that you want to. Say it. Say that you hate me.” James face crumpled and he rushed forward into Thomas’ arms, bursting out into sobs. Thomas clutched onto James tightly, letting the pain and anger wash out of him.

Though he continued to sob a long time after that, in Thomas’ arms James knew that eventually, everything would be alright. As long as he had Thomas by his side the world wasn’t as bad of a place as it seemed.

 

1945

The war ended. Britain, with the help of most of the world, won. That meant that James was going back to his mother’s place in London. He didn’t want to go. He was ten now and had spent half of his life away from her. He barely remembered what she looked like, Thomas was his family now.

In the end he didn’t have a choice.

“Why do I have to go?” James asked Thomas. A small part of him was screaming at him to not leave Thomas. He couldn’t help but feel terrified that he would never see him again.

“It won’t be that bad,” replied Thomas as they walked along the riverbank, “besides, my family is returning to London soon as well, so we can meet up again.” James clenched his jaw and looked down, dragging his feet through the dirt. “What?” Thomas asked.

James sighed. “You are going to the rich side of London where everything is still perfectly put together. Where I’m going is to be filled with debris and broken glass.”

“So?”

“So, your father will never allow you to come down to visit me.”

Thomas frowned. “Well you can still come up and visit me, and we can still send letters and the such.” James nodded his head, but inside a growing feeling of dread spread out. People from his society were not supposed to mingle with those in Thomas’. The fact that he got to spend five years with such a wonderful friend was a blessing in and of itself. Thomas stopped walking and put a hand on James’ arm. “Why does this feel like an actual goodbye?”

James forced a fake smile on his face that Thomas no doubt saw right through. “It’s not.” Seeing that Thomas did not look convinced he quickly stepped forward and drew him into a hug. They hadn’t done that a lot lately, seeing as Thomas’ father frowned upon such things. James held onto Thomas tightly, not really wanting to let go. It seemed wrong, but this did truly feel like a goodbye, and it was not one James was ready to make.

The next day James boarded the train back to London. He kept watch out the window, staring back at Thomas until the train turned the corner and he was out of sight. A gapping hole in James’ chest seemed to open up— one that James did not believe could be so easily filled.

 

_1770-1782_

_James regains all of his memories for the first time when he’s 12. The pain and horror of it all comes crashing down on him, blocking everything out. There is nothing but darkness, anger, and blood… so much blood. He is supposed to be free - death is supposed to be his salvation - but instead he is here, alone._

_He screams and screams, lying there on the street._

_He gets shot in the head, presumably to make him shut up. He dies instantly._

 

1947

James had not seen Thomas in two years. Upon returning to London it was apparent that his mother was in bad shape — she had not taken his father’s death well and was barely getting by, so James spent most of his time looking after his mother and taking on any sort of job that was offered. The education, that he had received in leaps and bounds at the Hamilton household, suffered. Many kids like him were in the same situation, some not even knowing how to read, so James felt like it didn’t really matter anyways. They kept on having to move around since the buildings they were in kept on closing down for this reason or that, so whatever letters Thomas may have sent his way would have been lost.

After two years Thomas was becoming just a distant memory. A childhood friend that James had needed at the time, but not someone that could have remained in James’ life for the entirety of it. It just wouldn’t have worked… or so he thought.

On his twelfth birthday everything changed. His mother was having a bad day, so James barely even registered that he had aged another year. It was only a passing glance at a thrown out newspaper that revealed the date to James. He paused and looked around him, jolted for a second, then shrugged his shoulders. What did it matter anyway? It wasn’t like he had anyone to celebrate it with.

He was coming back from his job at the bakers when it happened. A searing pain hit his skull making everything go white. James fell down, clutching at his head. People around him cursed him and pushed him to the side, but James barely registered it. The pain grew and grew until it was all James knew. Then the visions came.

Memory after memory of painful, horrid memories came crashing down on him. His whole body shuddered at the intensity of it. It was like he was actually there, at those places that his mind was showing him for some reason. Years, decades, whole lifetimes, made themselves known to James. Most of them were terribly tragic, but there were a few happy memories. Those James tried to hold on to, but they were too few and far in between to really give him any relief.

It was over just as quick as it had started, though, leaving James with the memories, haunting him for all eternity. He lay there gasping, his face seemed to be wet, and embarrassingly enough, so were his pants. James couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment. “J-John,” he gasped out, a fresh outcropping of tears falling down his cheek. The memories of him once again felt like a hot stab in the back. Then James senses returned to him and he opened his eyes abruptly. “Thomas!” he breathed. He stood up abruptly. Thomas was _here._ He was actually here; he had met him! Finally, after all these lifetimes, the love of his life was within his grasp.

Then came the realization that Thomas would not accept such a monster back in his life. James groaned as he remembered all the horrible things that he had done since Thomas’ death. The dark, monstrous person who slew all those who had gotten in his way. Thomas would never forgive him… but Thomas wouldn’t know. They never knew, the people from his previous life, they never remembered. Thomas would be the same, he had to be the same. All James had to do was force it all down inside of him, pretend like he was just the childhood friend, nothing more. Let go of his past and just be the James McGraw that he had been just minutes before. He could do this. Then James realized where he was and put his face in his hands with a groan. For all he knew, he had probably wrecked whatever relationship he could have had with Thomas because of circumstance and stupid childish thoughts. Like all his previous lives, he was once again a man in a twelve-year old’s body, it was infuriating.

Looking down on himself he sighed. He would need to change his clothes again. He wished he was given some kind of warning, but he never was. The same old process put on repeat, over and over again. Quickly he scampered home in the rapidly growing dark and crept inside. His mother was curled up on the couch passed out. “Happy Birthday to me,” James muttered, before rummaging around in his closet and yanking on some fresh pants. Looking around James smiled. There was still a chance to see Thomas. He was no longer a stupid boy; he would find him and hopefully, they would finally have the life together that they deserved. Smiling he crawled in his bed, feeling hope for the first time in all of his many lives.

The next day he slowly walked over to the all boy’s academy that he was certain Thomas went to. It was the highest calibre school in the city and Alfred Hamilton only got the best. He stood outside of the gates and peered inside. It seemed like any other all boys school, except everyone seemed to have this pompous air to them. James did not know how he was going to find Thomas amongst all of them, especially if he couldn’t get inside.

James slowly did a walk around the border of the school, trying to catch a glimpse of him, but with no luck. Sighing to himself, James decided to admit defeat for today and was about to leave when he literally ran into Thomas.

He fell down with a gasp, breath punched out of him for a second. He stared up into the familiar blue eyes in surprise.

“James?”

“Thomas!”

Before James knew what he was doing, he had leapt up and wrapped Thomas in a mighty hug causing Thomas to stumble backwards a few steps. “Er… James, are you alright?”

Sense came back to James and he pulled back, blushing. Shit. Thomas probably was mad at him, he could hate him even, and here he was jumping all over him. Thomas didn’t know anything. They never do.

“I-I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have...”

Thomas let out a loud laugh and pulled James in for a hug again. “Oh you silly goose. Gods, I’ve missed you.” James breathed out a sigh of relief and melted into the embrace. It felt so good to be in Thomas’ arms again. It was like a missing piece inside of him was fixed. Everything was alright in the world now.

They pulled back and grinned at each other like idiots. Though it was still early days, James knew that for once in his life, things might actually have a chance at ending well.

 

1950

They stumbled towards Thomas’ home with Thomas giggling manically into James’ shoulder, drunk off his ass and sputtering incoherent words. With some difficulty James managed to sneak them inside and deposited Thomas on his bed. As he tried to pull away, Thomas reached out and grabbed onto James’ arm, pulling him closer. “Noooo… don’t leave yet.”

James let out a huff of laughter. “Come on Thomas, I have to go before your dad catches me.”

Thomas shook his head, gripping onto James’ arm tighter, and with surprising strength, managed to pull James on top of him. James gasped in surprise staring down at the other boy, their faces close together. James tried to keep his breathing steady, but his pulse was beating loudly in his ears. It was getting harder and harder to refrain from touching Thomas these days, especially with James having the libido of a fifteen- year old boy. He wanted so badly to feel Thomas’ skin on his lips again, but he was too afraid to take the step forward. Insecurities constantly blocked him— what if this Thomas was not interested in men? What if he just viewed him as a friend? What would happen if they were caught? — it was the last one that made James pause most. He would not have Thomas ripped away from him again because it was still wrong in society to be with someone of the same sex. Though pockets of areas had grown more tolerable, it was still a dangerous thing, and with Alfred Hamilton breathing down their necks James knew it was an impossibility.

Still, at times like these, James felt his resolve wavering. He looked down into those perfect blue eyes and felt his breath catch. Those eyes seemed to be filled with mirth, joy, and, if he was not mistaken, lust. Thomas reached up and pushed a lock of hair out of James’ eyes and smiled up at him. “You’re pretty,” he slurred. James let out a little disappointed chuckle and sat up, reminded that Thomas was drunk and was most definitely not in the right mind to do anything.

He got up, much to Thomas’ chagrin and moved to leave. “Why do you never drink?” The voice called across the darkness. James paused at the door. They had had this conversation a couple of times before, but James had always evaded the answer, mostly saying he just didn’t like the taste. He turned around and assessed Thomas. He had turned over on his side and was staring at him with a confused expression on his face.

“Because I have seen what drink does to someone and I will not go down that path again.” He turned and left before Thomas could respond. Outside in the cold air he leaned against a building and breathed deeply. It hurt, being constantly around Thomas, yet not really being around him. Always having to be this shield from him. It was tiring, but James would not trade it for all the world. It did remind him, though, that Thomas would be leaving for university soon. James was soon to be faced with the reality that Thomas might very well soon leave him and that was something that James would not handle well.

 

_1785-1805_

_He carries his pain for eight years. He meets up with Charles Vane, the man doesn’t recognize him. They work together for a bit, but Vane gets shot running away from the authorities when James is 15. James is, once again, alone._

_Five years later he walks into a bar to find Dufrense laughing away at some stupid joke. James sees red and kills him, right then and there, at the bar. He gets hanged a couple of days later._

 

1952

James had just finished setting up the final touches of his new antique business when the bell jangled, indicating that the door had opened. “Sorry, we aren’t open yet.” James called out, not turning around from where he was assessing an old clock.

A pair of arms wrapped around his waist, and a voice whispered in his ear. “Even for old friends?”

James turned around in surprise. “Thomas?” The familiar blue eyes sparkled down at him, full of fondness and laughter.

“Hello.”

James couldn’t help the grin that broke over his face and he pulled Thomas into a tight hug, breathing in his familiar scent again. Thomas had been away at University for a year and a half, and it had been torture to say the least. They had managed to send letters back and forth, but it hadn’t been the same.

“How was school?” James asked, reluctantly pulling back. Thomas reached out and grabbed his hand, playing with the fingers.

“Eh, alright. This looks exciting though. When’s the big opening?”

“Tomorrow,” James said, looking around proudly. It had taken a lot of work, but considering where he had started he couldn’t be happier.

Thomas walked over to a weapons display, dragging James along with him, and picked up an 18th century gun. “Imagine shooting one of these,” he chuckled. James had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Oh he could imagine it alright. Thomas let go of his hand and began fiddling with the gun. It reminded James that he was going to need to put them in a glass case, but he decided not to bother Thomas about it.

Thomas seemed to be in an antsy mood. He kept fiddling with the gun, and shifting back and forth on his feet. He also wouldn’t properly look James in the eye. “What is it?” James asked, worry starting to creep up.

Thomas sighed and put down the gun. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately…” James mind was jumping from one possibility to the next, each one being worse than the last. Did he think they should no longer be friends? Was he moving to America? What? James looked up at Thomas with dread. He wasn’t sure his heart could take Thomas leaving him.

Thomas looked back at him and growled with frustration. He then leaped forward, grabbing James’ head and kissing him deeply. James gasped in surprise, frozen for a couple of seconds, not quite processing what had just happened. Thomas pulled back, guilt gracing his features and James realized how stupid he was being. This was everything he wanted. Letting out a little involuntary whine, he reached out and pulled Thomas back in, kissing him hungrily. It was perfect in every way. He was finally home again, in his lover’s arms, and all of his pain and darkness dissipated. All the pain, all the horror that he had gone through now seemed worth it to be here in this moment, with this beautiful, magnificent man.  

They kissed until they had to break apart for air. Standing there, they breathed in little gasps, grinning like idiots. Thomas leaned his forehead down to James’. “Thank god you feel the same. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. This past year I couldn’t stop thinking of you and wishing I had told you how I felt before I left. I was afraid I was too late and you had already found someone else.”

James chuckled, shaking his head. “No, it’s only been you, always you, besides don’t you think I would have told you if there was someone else?” Thomas shrugged, blushing. It was a rare sight to see Thomas flustered and one that James cherished. With a smirk, James leaned in and whispered in Thomas’ ear, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to do that.”

Thomas pulled his head back, eyebrow raised. “Well then… guess we have time to make up for.” James couldn’t help, but agree.

 

1955

James’ mother passed away in the early winter of 1955. It was expected to say the least— she had never really recovered from her husband’s death. Standing at her funeral, James found he couldn’t really bring himself to care all that much. She hadn’t ever been his real family, never really acting like a mother. Still, he couldn’t say he was happy to see her go.

Thomas stood beside him, being his rock as he so often was. He seemed far more affected by the whole thing than James was and couldn’t really understand why James was being so calm throughout this whole ordeal.

For James, he had seen far more death and pain than at this moment. For him, what mattered was having Thomas still with him. Thomas was, and always would be, his family. It wasn’t his complete family, but that didn’t matter. When one’s life is riddled with unending cruelty after cruelty, those little patches of love and joy meant so much more.

Thomas reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “If you need anything, I’m here. Always.”

James nodded in return, reminded once again why he was in love with this man.

 

1957

James could not have been prouder watching Thomas cross the stage. After all his years of hard work he had finally completed his education and gotten a doctorate in philosophy. Technically, he was a doctor now. James wondered which one held more prestige- the title of doctor or lord. It didn’t matter either way, James loved him all the same.

“Congratulations!” James exclaimed, giving Thomas a brief hug. He wished he could do more, but there were too many eyes around. Alfred Hamilton was just a few yards away talking to the president of the university.

Thomas beamed down at him. “I can’t believe it. I actually did it!”

James chuckled and shook his head. “Oh come on, I knew you could do it. You’re… you.”

Thomas laughed loudly. “Oh James, ever the eloquent one.”

Just then Alfred came over with the school president. “Thomas, I was just talking to Mr. Jones here, and he was saying that he would be delighted to offer you a position at the university.”

James immediately went on guard. Though in this life Alfred seemed to be less invested in Thomas’ affairs, James couldn’t help but be wary. This job position seemed like a way to ensure that Thomas would be under his father’s control for the foreseeable future.

Thomas gave a tight smile and shook Mr. Jones hand. “Thank you very much sir, but I must regrettably decline.” Alfred’s face immediately went dark, while Mr. Jones looked surprised. James had to say he was a bit confused as well. Though he thought the job offering was fishy, Thomas loved and respected his father and James didn’t believe would have shared his same suspicions. Also, it did seem like a good offer, even if Thomas was concerned about its contents, he should take a couple of days to look it over.

“Oh?” said Mr. Jones.

Thomas smiled regretfully, “Yes, I’m afraid I already took up a position up north. I will be teaching a couple of lower division philosophy classes come fall. It was too good of an opportunity to pass up and I must say I am very excited to start there.” Now James was totally lost. Thomas had said nothing about moving up north and James couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed at that. Thomas shot him a guilty glance, which led James to believe that this was actually something Thomas had done.

Mr. Jones nodded his head respectfully. “I understand. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Now hold on one minute. I’m sure the university up north will be very understanding when you withdraw from the position-” Alfred started to say. For once James found himself agreeing with him. If Thomas went up north, that would mean he was going to leave James behind. James found himself wondering if their relationship meant so little to Thomas that he would be willing to get up and leave without a second thought.

“I’m sorry father. I just cannot do that,” Thomas said sharply.

Alfred sneered. “Oh and who do you know up there that will help you when you get in trouble, like you inevitably will?”

“I’m sure I will make friends and acquaintances, besides, James is expanding up north and will be there as well.”

James’ mind sort of froze at that — he was? That was certainly news to him. He then realized that three pairs of eyes were staring at him. “I… uh hem… yes, I’ve found antiques are… in high demand up there… northerners sure do like their… old stuff,” James blubbered, caught entirely off guard.

Thankfully a friend of Thomas’ called out to him, so Thomas politely said his thanks and, grabbing James arm, went off to greet the friend.

Later when they finally had a moment to themselves, James pulled Thomas to the side. “Forgive me, but what the hell was that about with your father?”

Thomas grimaced. “Sorry about that, I should have warned you.

“Yes,” said James in annoyance, “you should have.”

“I got the offer this morning. I was going to discuss it with you first, but then my father came to me with that position and I panicked. I’m tired of being under his control all the time, and this would just be something else that I would owe him down the line, so I said I already took the position. I haven’t though, if that’s any consolidation. Please forgive me.”

James sighed and shook his head. “Yes, of course I forgive you. Though looks like you’ll have to take it now.”

Thomas shook his head. “Not if you don’t want me to; I’m not going to leave you behind. We’ll figure something else out.”

James felt bad about his previous thoughts. Of course Thomas wouldn’t have wanted to leave him, he was just as committed in this relationship as James was. “No, let’s go. Besides, I’m sure northerners love antiques.”

Thomas smirked. “Yes, I do hear they love their _old_ stuff.”

“Oh shut up,” James said, pushing Thomas away gently, “you caught me off guard.”

Thomas laughed and pulled James back to him for a kiss. It was a slow deep, loving kiss, that to this day, still managed to make James’ toes curl. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against James’ own. “Thank you.” James nodded in return, pleased with the knowledge that whatever happened next, they would handle it together.

 

_1807-1830_

_He watches Jack Rackham get beaten to death when he is 14. He didn’t have an Anne Bonnie to take care of him in this life. He constantly asks himself why he is seeing all of this. Why is he remembering? It is agony in its cruelest fashion and it never stops. He is so alone._

_He is forced to work under Hornigold in a factory with hundreds of other men. The working conditions are horrible, and for seven years he is forced to see the blasted man strut around like he owns the place. He does, but that doesn’t make things any better._

_One night, walking home from work he passes a street where some hookers are trying to make money. Idelle is one of them. She is not doing well — there are heavy bags under her eyes, and her clothes are a mess. If James looks closely he might see a couple of bruises littering her skin. This is not Nassau, where the brothel girls practically ran the place. London is a cruel, unforgiving animal, and she will not last long out there. James never sees her again._

_A sickness gets passed around at the factory and James catches it. He dies alone in his bed, with only the sight of Hornigold’s smirk guiding him into the next life._

 

1960

For three years they led a settled life. James’ antiquing shop did quite well in the northern region, and Thomas was a high regarded professor. They lived together in a small apartment with the aliases that they were bachelors with no intention of settling down just yet. Their neighbours were friendly, and so far life, for once, was good.

Perhaps that is why things had to be shaken up— James had grown too comfortable in domestic bliss.

It was a lazy morning Sunday and neither of them were dressed appropriately, having got up late, and just then starting to make breakfast. There was a lot of playful banter and light kisses passed around the kitchen as they prepared the eggs and toast.

As James was spreading out the scrambled eggs between the two plates, Thomas came over and wrapped his arms around his waist, kissing the nape of his neck. Humming contentedly, James leaned back in Thomas’ embrace and turned his head to steal a kiss.

The door slammed open. “Thomas Hamilton, I will not be ignored like a lowly peasa-” the one and only Alfred Hamilton had come stalking into the room, yelling at the top of his lungs. He froze when he noticed the position James and Thomas were in. They sprang apart, but both knew the damage was done— there was no mistaking what their positions had meant.

“Father,” Thomas said, trying to maintain some of his dignity, “what are you doing here?”

James, for one, felt ill. It was happening all over again, history was repeating itself in the most horrid fashion. And to think he had thought he was safe here, fuck, he was an idiot.

Alfred spluttered as he pointed a crooked finger between Thomas and James. “You… you… him…”

“Father,” Thomas repeated, “what are you doing here?”

Alfred’s face clouded over. “So this is why you have forsaken the Hamilton name.”

Thomas took a deep breath. “I have not forsaken the family name father. I just wanted to become my own man.”

Alfred’s face was growing more disgusted by the second as he, through his own imaginings, put together the pieces of what was going on here. “I will not have a… have a _fairy_ taint my family name. You vile, disgusting, piece of shit. To think that _I_ raised you in my own household. Fed you my food, put a roof over your head.”

All the colour had drained from Thomas’ face and James couldn’t take it anymore. He would not let this leech of a man ruin their happiness any longer. “Enough. You sir, are not welcome in this household. Whatever passes between myself and your son is our business and our business alone. You have no say in the matter, and frankly, I don’t give a fuck if it disgusts you. You are the one here who is vile and disgusting and I ask that you kindly leave our house, now.”

Alfred’s whole face went red, and his eyes widened in anger. “How dare you! Now you listen here you piece of shit-”

James strode over and slammed the man against the wall. All of his hate and resentment that he had been holding inside for the other man was unleashed at this moment. He didn’t care that none of it would make sense to the other man, James just needed to make sure that Alfred was no longer going to be the source of anymore of his pain. “You dare call me a piece of shit? You? The one who is the cause of all my pain and suffering? Don’t you fucking dare. I’ve killed you before, don’t think I wouldn’t gladly run a sword through you again.”

“James!” Thomas called out, but James was too far gone to register it. He lifted Alfred up by the lapels of his shirt and slammed him against the wall again, making the old man’s teeth clatter. He moved a hand to his throat and started squeezing.

“You have no right to enter our household. No right to judge us. No right-” James was pulled backwards, and he landed on his backside. He looked up in surprise to see Thomas standing between him and Alfred, eyes full of fear. James heart sank as he realized what he had just done.

Alfred straightened up. There was still fear in his eyes, but he was quickly gaining back his confidence. Looking boldly at Thomas he sneered. “You are through. Your university position will be gone by tomorrow. No one will even think about hiring you when I’m through with you. From henceforth, you are disinherited, so don’t come crawling back to me when you inevitably end up on the streets. I hope you both rot in hell.” Straightening his jacket, he spat on the floor and quickly left, leaving an odd ringing silence in his wake.

After a couple of moments, Thomas slowly walked to the door, closing it and leaning his head against the wood. James felt horrible. For the first time in this lifetime the darkness had washed over him, consuming him, and making him lose reason. This was all of his fault. “I- I’m sorry.”

Thomas let out an odd croaked laugh. “It’s not your fault.”

James found himself irritated by that. “Yes it is. If I hadn’t provoked him-”

“He would have still threatened to go to the university and ruin me. I was ruined the moment he barged through that door.”

“No, you’re not,” James said, striding forward, and turning Thomas around so he could look into his eyes. “You have friends and allies at the university, they can help you out. I still have my shop, but I can just as easily get up and move like last time. This isn’t the end.” James could see that Thomas still didn’t look convinced, so he pressed on. “So you may be fired, we can move to a different place, one where your father can’t touch. Hell we can move to America if need be. We will get through this. Together. Like always.” He reached up and grasped Thomas face in his hands, bringing their foreheads together. The road was going to be rocky, but James, for once, was optimistic that things could turn out alright.

Thomas was let go from the university, but his firing did not make the waves that Alfred had wanted. Thomas had too much respect within the community for that. They moved down south and found a small college that was in desperate need for professors. They didn’t give a damn about past discretions. The town they were in was too small for an antiques shop, so James decided to open up a bakery instead, and quickly his baked goods became the town’s favourites.

Life moved on, things settled down, and once again, life was good.

 

1962

For awhile now James had been noticing that Thomas had been acting, well, off. He seemed listless and distracted, and not his usual optimistic self.

One day, they were strolling through the park when Thomas sighed and kicked at a rock, a frown marring his features. James knew he had to say something. Putting a hand lightly on Thomas’ arm, he stopped them and turned to face him. “Thomas, tell me what’s the matter.”

Thomas looked away, lips tight. “Nothing.”

James sighed, Thomas could be quite stubborn when he put his mind too it, and like most times, it only served to make James more annoyed. “You have been acting all morose and discontent these past couple of weeks. Out with it. Is it something I’ve done?”

Thomas looked at James sharply. “Of course not!”

“Then what is wrong?” James asked in exasperation.

Thomas sighed and looked back the way they had come. “Did you see that mother with her child when they passed?”

James frowned, he thought he had recalled passing someone, but he hadn’t been paying too much attention to fellow walkers. His attention being focused for the most part on Thomas, as always. Still, that didn’t really explain why Thomas was so upset. Sure the lady might have glared at them, but Thomas was the one who usually rubbed it off while having to convince James not to go fight the other person. Either way, he doubted the lady had done such a thing.

Thomas shook his head. “Of course you didn’t. Never mind.”

 James frowned in indignation. “No, you can’t just say ‘never mind’ and expect me to drop the subject.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s what never mind means.”

James sighed. “Please Thomas.” He hated seeing Thomas like this. They had everything James could ever want in life, but that didn’t mean that Thomas was always content. James had to keep reminding himself that Thomas didn’t remember their previous life together; he didn’t understand how much just being alive _together_ meant to James. Thomas still had his wants and dreams, and so James vowed to do his best to ensure that he helped fulfil those dreams.

“I want to be a father.”

James froze. That was probably the last thing he had expected. James had never really had any care to have children, and back in the 18th century, Thomas had never brought up such thoughts either. Then again, there probably never really had been the time for such dreams to be brought up. Still though, James could not even begin to guess where these thoughts came from. “Okay…”

Thomas groaned and started pacing around James. “I know I know, it’s weird. Why would I even want a child? I’ve never really wanted one before. It’s just… seeing all these happy families around us lately made me realize we are missing out on something that is potentially glorious.”

James was still quite taken aback, so he was not sure how to best approach such a subject. “You do realize… we can’t.”

Thomas gave him an unimpressed look. “I know we can’t, but I was thinking we could adopt or something. Raise a child in a loving family where otherwise they would be alone.”

James had to say that the idea was growing on him. Thomas did have that affect on him. “Okay, so let’s look into adopting.”

At that, Thomas deflated. “I’ve already looked into it.”

James raised an eyebrow. “Oh you have, have you?”

“Don’t give me that look,” Thomas said before continuing on, “it doesn’t look good. Most places won’t even consider letting a child get adopted without a married couple applying. Others, if there is even a whiff of a homosexual happenings, will throw you out.” James grimaced. It always seemed to come back to that.

“Oh, and get this,” Thomas said, “The great, charitable Alfred Hamilton is endorsing a good chunk of the children’s orphanages in Britain. If I even try and put my name in, I’ll get shut down.” Thomas looked close to tears. It seemed he really had done a lot of research on this and once he realized his dream wasn’t feasible had taken on the mood that had resided over these past couple of weeks.

James pulled Thomas into a hug. “We’ll figure something out.”

Thomas shook his head, clutching onto James’ jacket. “Not here we won’t, and I don’t want to move. I’m tired of moving, tired of trying to escape my father’s reach. I like it here— this is our home.”

James felt his heart break at the brokenness of Thomas’ tone. All he wanted was to give Thomas the world and he couldn’t even give him a child.

The next week an idea came to James. It wouldn’t fix everything, but it could help.

The following day, James brought home a little chocolate lab, only a couple of months old. Thomas took one look at it and instantly fell in love.

“Oh look at you precious thing, look at you!” Thomas cooed, holding the little dog in his arms. The pup squirmed in his grip, making high pitched whines and, generally, being adorable.

James sat across from them, staring fondly at the pair as they bonded. “You’ll be the one who has to train him.”

Thomas looked up and mocked gasped. “Train him? But he’s perfect! You don’t need training do you Bubbles, do you?”

“Bubbles?”

Thomas smirked. “Yeah, Bubbles.” He lifted the dog up to his face, and pressed their noses together. They were adorable.

“Do I even want to ask why?”

Thomas shrugged. “I don’t know. It just came to me.”

James chuckled, getting up and walking around to kiss Thomas on the side of the head. “The great philosopher calling his dog Bubbles. What will this world come to?”

“Oh sush.” Thomas chided. James smiled down at the pair, then glanced up. Their reflection was caught in the glass window, showcasing the three of them together. James felt a lump get caught in his throat— they looked like a perfect family.

 

1965

They find out through the papers. It was by accident really, Bubbles had torn up the day’s newspaper and left the pages strewn around the floor forcing James to pick them up. Thomas would have just left them lying around and coo about how adorable the blasted dog was. Okay, yes the dog was adorable and perfect, but did he really have to get into the flour and make a mess all over the kitchen? Like really? Anyways, James went around picking up the pages when his eye fell on the Obituary page. There in big bold letters, that indicated that it was a person of high standing, was the name Elaina Hamilton, 1905-1965.

James closed his eyes, and sat down heavily. Thomas loved his mother, very much. They hadn’t been able to maintain much contact with her throughout the years, but she still managed to send parcels every birthday and Christmas. James had at first been wary that her knowing where they were would lead to Alfred finding them, but Thomas had assured him that his mom would keep their location secret. So far so good. Now she was dead.

The obituaries didn’t say how she had died, but it would still be a hard blow for Thomas, 60 years wasn’t that old after all. Bubbles came over and curled up beside him on the couch, as if sensing James’ distress. He wasn’t technically supposed to be allowed on the couch, but for now James decided to let it pass. James stroked his hand through the soft fur, leaning back to wait for Thomas to come back from his class.

Thomas came through the door, whistling cheerfully. Bubbles perked up at the sound and raced to the door to greet his master. “Why hello there Bubbles, there’s a good boy, there’s a good boy. You’re a good boy aren’t you.” Thomas gushed leaning down and giving the dog a full body rub. Thomas spoiled the dog far too much.

“Thomas?” James called out. He hated being the barer of bad news, but Thomas needed to hear this.

“Hey love,” Thomas called out, entering the living room. He paused when he noticed James just sitting there with a piece of newspaper in his hands. “Is everything alright?”

“Please sit,” James said, looking down at the page. Thomas slowly sat down; James could feel the concern emitting off of him. Taking a deep breath, James looked up and handed over the page. “I’m sorry.”

Confused, Thomas took the page, keeping his eyes on James before finally, James pointed down at it, gesturing for him to read it. James could only watch as the words registered in Thomas’ mind and his face crumpled. It was devastating to say the least.

Reaching out, he tentatively pulled Thomas into a hug, cradling him carefully in his arms. “H-how?” Thomas gasped out, his whole body shuddering with unspoken sobs.

“I don’t know,” whispered James, squeezing him a bit tighter. It was a hard night to say the least, and the coming weeks were harder still.

They managed to locate where the funeral was taking place and took time off to attend. They wouldn’t be able to actually attend the funeral, but Thomas wanted to at least be near the place where his mother was put to rest.

They watched from a distance as people gathered around and gave their condolences to Alfred Hamilton as Elaine was put in the ground. The weather was cloudy and dreary to represent the mood, and James sat with Thomas at the far end of the cemetery watching the proceedings. Thomas was drinking some scotch, scowling at the whole affair. “She hated lilacs. Absolutely hated them. Why the fuck are they adorning her grave?”

James shook his head, knowing there was not much he could say that would make it better. “And why the fuck are they consoling my father? He didn’t give a damn about her. Was a marriage of fucking convenience, that was what it was. Fucking convenience. There was no love between them. No love.”

“I know.”

“You love me don’t you, right?” Thomas suddenly asked, he was looking over at James with bloodshot eyes and a worried expression on his face. James was instantly concerned.

“Hey, of course I love you,” James assured, reaching over and grabbing onto Thomas’ shoulders, forcing him to look him directly in the eye. “You are my everything, you have no idea… you have no fucking idea how much you mean to me. I love you with everything I have, don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

Thomas gave a watery smile. “I love you too,” He whispered, leaning forward to place their foreheads together in their signature sign of comfort.

“At my mother’s funeral you once said to me that you would be there for me, always. Well the same goes for me. If you need anything, I will be here for you. Always.”

He leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to Thomas’ lips, trying to pass on all his love, support, and understanding into the act. Today had been a hard day, but tomorrow was going to be better. They just had to get there.

 

1967

_He is running, through the halls, down the corridors, opening doors at random, but the rooms are always empty. He is running out of time! Panting, he urges his legs to go faster, but they won’t listen. Finally, he reaches the end of the corridor and there is one door left. He pulls it open, only to just glimpse Miranda get shot in the head. Her body falls down, like a doll, bullet hole dripping blood onto the floor._

_“MIRANDA!”_

He jerked awake, sweat dripping down his neck. He gasped for breath, willing his pulse to return to a normal level. Just another nightmare, just another nightmare, he repeated to himself. Ever since his memories had returned to him he had been having them. Not every night, and not nearly as often as he had in his previous lives, but still, he had them. He hadn’t had one this bad in awhile, though, and it put him off balance.

“Are you alright?” a soft voice asked. James whipped around, staring at Thomas in surprise. Dread filled him as he realized that Thomas was sitting up, watching him carefully. From the looks of things, he had been awake for awhile now.

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, “just a bad dream.”

“You have those a lot you know,” Thomas said, “normally, you don’t wake up. The dream passes and you fall into a restful sleep again. Sometimes you do, but you never really seem to be aware that I’m with you when I call your name.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware I was waking you up.”

Thomas smiled softly. “Don’t worry about that, though, your nightmares do bother me. I can’t figure out why you are having them, or who they are about for that matter.”

James froze. “What do you mean?”

“You always call out in your sleep, usually it’s just random words like no, or stop. Sometimes it’s my name… and sometimes it is other’s names who I have not had the pleasure of making an acquaintance with.”

James felt like cursing. Out of all the things that could potentially cause a rift between himself and Thomas, it had to be his blasted nightmares. “I don’t…”

“I would just like to understand what troubles you and why? What demons do you carry that you feel the need to hide from me? Take tonight, you yelled out the name Miranda. You’ve said her name a couple of times before, but I have never heard you speak of her in all of our years together. Or the other one… John, you say his name more often than either mine or the Miranda lady. Who are these people and what have they done to you?” There was a pleading note in Thomas’ voice, but James couldn’t find it in himself to reveal his secrets. They were buried under walls and locks so secure that James barely even thought about them in his normal everyday life. What he had here with Thomas was perfect, he didn’t want to bury it down with horrors beyond imagining.

Thomas leaned forwards. “I can see it in your eyes sometimes when there is a quiet moment and you think no one is watching. You gaze out the window, looking for something only you can see. Every time we enter a new place I see your eyes look around the room as if you expect to run into someone there. You are always searching and searching, trying to find this missing piece-”

“No I’m not,” James said desperately, “yes I have demons, yes I have hidden… things that I have been keeping from you that I cannot disclose. Not yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m looking for something else. I have never been happier than right now, with you.”

Thomas frowned. “See, right there. You sometimes say things like that, like you’ve had this whole life away from me that I don’t know about. From what I know, except for a couple of years here and there, we have been together since you were five and I was seven. Am I wrong?”

James cursed internally, of course Thomas would pick up on such things. He got up and went over to look out the window. “I physically cannot tell you right now what is going on, but… perhaps some day I will be able to. Please don’t push this.”

Thomas looked down at the covers, obviously not very happy with that response, but in the end nodded his head and leaned back. “Okay, but promise me one thing.”

“What?”

“If I no longer make you happy, if you one day find what you are looking for. Tell me. I don’t want to be a burden on your happiness.”

James was taken aback. Hurriedly he went over to Thomas, taking his hands. “I can assure you, that will never happen. What you and I have… it’s beyond words. What you think I’m looking for, it’s not the same.”

Thomas nodded his head. They each gave each other tentative smiles. James now knew he was going to have to tell Thomas his story one day, it was only fair for him to know. The thought terrified him, knowing that Thomas could very well leave him if he believed what he had to say. Or worse yet, if he didn’t. He could only pray that when the time came to tell, Thomas would still be there to support him.

 

_1833-1873_

_He lives beside the Gunthries. Mr. Scott is an illegal slave for the household, but everyone turns a blind eye. They accuse him of stealing one day and send the dogs after him. James can only watch._

_Richard Gunthrie dies from a heart attack a few years later, leaving a young girl all alone in the world. James practically raises Eleanor for twenty years. Somehow, though she doesn’t remember anything, she meets up with Max and they get together. People find out and start attacking them, James jumps in — in desperation — to stop them. He gets hit in the head with a club and dies. He never finds out what happens to the girls._

 

1970

Thomas slapped a couple of tickets down on the kitchen table where James was busy reading the daily newspaper. James looked up at Thomas in confusion, then down at the tickets. Picking them up, he eyed them critically. “Spain? What’s this about?”

“Thought we should finally put your lessons to good use. You’ve been studying Spanish religiously for years, thought now was the perfect opportunity for those skills to be put to work. It is our honeymoon after all.”

“Honeymoon?”

Thomas smirked. “Okay, not our honeymoon, since we are technically not married… but what about anniversary?”

“Anniversary of what?” James asked in amusement. Though Thomas was the more romantic one out of the two of them, he did tend to forget important days, like for instance their actual anniversary, which was a couple of months ago.

“Oh I don’t know,” huffed Thomas, “does it really matter? I have just realized that we haven’t actually travelled anywhere together for vacation. We have been going about our married life all wrong.”

James laughed. Of course Thomas would think such things. “Good thing we aren’t actually married then,” James teased, “but you’re right. It is high time we went on vacation. You are practically forty now.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Pretty soon I will have grey hair and saggy skin.”

“Hey! Don’t say that. Besides,” James said, leaning over to peck Thomas lightly on the lips, “you’ll always be the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on.”

Thomas beamed back at James, and James felt a swoosh of butterflies erupt in his stomach. Even after all these years, Thomas still had that effect on him. “You spoil me,” Thomas said.

James leaned back with a grin, brandishing the tickets. “Are you kidding me? You are the one who spoils me! Ticket’s to Spain, who would have thought?”

Two weeks later they had packed their bags and had headed off to San Sebastian, where they enjoyed the beautiful beaches, wandered through Old Town, and ate delightful cuisine. Like predicted, James’ Spanish was put to good use and they never had any trouble with directions or shopping or other such things that many tourists fall pitfall to.

Though at times James itched to reach out and grasp Thomas’ hand, he knew that even so far away from Britain it would not be the safest thing to do. Still, having his love by his side as they roamed the bright streets and breathed in the smells of spices and sea water was like a dream come true.

On their last night there, they walked along the beach with only the moon to guide them. With no one around James found himself emboldened and reached out to grasp Thomas’ hand. Thomas squeezed it tightly in return and shot him a bright grin that seemed to light up the whole sky. “Thank you for this,” James said, looking up at the night sky. There were so many stars up there, too many to count. James found himself wondering if it was possible that there was anyone else out there in the universe as happy as he was in that moment.

He looked back down to see Thomas staring at him with love and adoration in his eyes. His breath caught in his throat. As if drawn in by outside forces, they both leaned in for a moonlight kiss out on the beach. It was a slow sweet kiss, with both of them exploring each other’s mouths like it was their first time doing so. Neither knew how long it lasted, but James knew that this was going to be a memory that he would cherish forever, no matter how many lifetimes he had to live through.

 

1972

They walked through the park, hands just brushing each other with each swing. Bubbles ran ahead, chasing squirrels and whatever birds happened to be in his line of sight. It was an adorable sight.

Thomas whistled and Bubbles quickly turned around, lopping back to his masters. He looked up at them with his bright brown eyes, tongue hanging out of his mouth. Thomas leaned down and ran his hands through the soft fur. Looking up, he smiled at James. “You know, it’s times like these that I have come to realize that I am truly blessed. I don’t know what I did to deserve this happiness. Aren’t most philosophers supposed to be dreary fellows?”

James chuckled and knelt down beside him, reaching out to ruffle Bubble’s ears. “No one deserves happiness more than you, my love.”

“Nah,” Thomas said, “I think you deserve it more than I, and for that I am eternally grateful that I can be a source of your happiness.” Looking around to make sure no one was around, he leaned in for a quick kiss. Despite their dangerous position, James couldn’t help, but lean in and deepen the kiss, wanting to hold onto this moment for as long as possible.

Bubbles let out a bark, and jumped in between the two of them, breaking them apart. They separated, laughing as Bubbles leapt on top of Thomas and began licking his face.

 

1975

James knew something was up. First of all, Thomas was being very secretive as of late, making late night phone calls and rushing off at odd times. Second of all, Thomas had ordered James to bake him a cake. He had attempted to do it anonymously, but James knew the sound of Thomas’ voice no matter what accent he put on. He was not deceived.

It didn’t take a genius to put together what was happening — James’ fortieth birthday was coming up and Thomas was throwing him a surprise party. Of course leave it to Thomas to get the birthday boy to bake his own cake. Still, he appreciated the gesture.

Like expected, James came home from the bakery one day to find all their friends they had made over the years in the house, yelling surprise. There was such a great outpouring of love and joy that James couldn’t help the smile that broke out over his face.

“Forty years, can you believe it?” Thomas said, coming up to him and giving him a big hug. “I think I can see a couple of grey hairs.”

“No you can’t!” James replied, running a hand through the red strands. He had checked that morning.

Thomas laughed and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Come on, let’s greet the guests.”

It was a wonderful party, and though James wasn’t a big fan such things, he found himself having a good time. However, the best part of his birthday was afterwards when everyone was gone, Thomas led him outside to where he had set up a blanket and pillows, with candles around the yard. The night was clear, and the stars were bright and they lay there, James against Thomas’ chest, whispering stories about gods and the men and women who had fought for them, and were granted a place up in the night sky for all to see.

 

 

1977

Like for all things, time passes, and death is inevitable. On a cold autumn’s day, Bubbles passed away in his sleep. He had been getting slow over the last couple of years and no longer had the same enthusiasm he once had when he was younger. Thomas and James both agreed that it was time for him to go. He had had a good life, and though it was sad, it came with acceptance.

They brought him to the park he loved to play in and buried him beside one of his favourite trees. They stood there for a bit in silence, contemplating the little grave and all that it entailed. It was at that moment that James knew he had to tell his story.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?”

Thomas looked at James in confusion. “I could see the possibility of such a thing happening, why? Do you think Bubbles will come back to us in some form or another?”

James shook his head. “No, because what I am going to tell you is going to seem very unbelievable, but I ask that you listen with an open mind and wait till I’m done before you ask questions.”

Thomas’ eyes widened. “You’re finally going to tell me aren’t you?” James nodded his head, looking down at the grave. For the first time he wished he had a drink to help him get through this, but no, he needed his wits about him. “Hey,” said Thomas, “I’m here for you. Always, no matter what.”

James nodded, still it was hard to bare one’s soul when one had been keeping it hidden for so long. Taking another deep breath, he gathered his courage and told his story.

He told him everything. From his roots as a carpenter’s son, to his time in the Navy, to meeting Lord Thomas Hamilton. Throughout it all Thomas remained a quiet, attentive listener with only his eyes flickering in surprise, amusement, and sometimes pain. Other than that, he gave no further reaction. James continued on, talking about his time in Nassau, the pirates, John Silver, and his death from that life. Thomas grew more somber as the tale went on, but still respected James’ wish and remained quiet. James then continued to talk about all his previous lives, one after the other, telling about the people he ran into and the jobs he took on and how he died. Over and over again. Finally, he reached the end of his tale, exhausted, voice hoarse from talking so much. He looked down at his hands, letting the silence stretch between them.

A pair of hands reached out and encircled his own. James looked up in surprise to see Thomas looking at him with tears shining in his eyes. “Thank you, for telling me. I understand now.”

James looked up at him, his own tears blurring his vision. “Do you believe me?” It was imperative for James to know this. He needed to know if Thomas just thought he was insane or if he actually believed that all those things had happened to him, to them.

Thomas slowly nodded his head. James closed his eyes and let out a breath. “What are you going to do?”

Thomas frowned. “What do you mean?”

James yanked his hands away. “You’ve heard my story, you’ve heard what I’ve done. You say you believe me, but do you? For if you truly believed me, you would be running to the hills right now, trying to get as far away from me as possible.”

Thomas shook his head, taking a step forward, but James just took another step back. Thomas looked hurt, but James needed to know what Thomas thought about all of this before he could continue. “Why would I run away? Because, through horrible actions and misdeeds, you were forced to do those awful things in another life? Another life that was hundreds of years ago and you have been paying for those actions for hundreds of years since? I don’t care about that. What I care about is the man that I love, the man standing before me who I have spent my whole life with, is suffering and in pain, and I want him to be healed. I want him to let go of his past, and I want…” Thomas broke off, tears were still streaming down his face. “… I want him to be happy because he has made me the happiest man on this earth and I owe him everything.”

James could only stare in shock. He had run over how this would go in his mind countless times, but never had such a scenario taken place in his head. Most of the time it ended with Thomas leaving him, not able to handle looking at James and knowing of the horrors he had committed. The best scenario he had ever thought up had ended with them still being friends, though forever separated by the knowledge of what James had done. This was not something he could comprehend.

“So God help me,” Thomas continued, “If I don’t help the man I love get past his demons. God help me if I dare abandon him in his times of need. I will remain by your side till death do us part, and together we will get through this. I need you to know that I don’t see you in any less of a light and I most certainly don’t see you as the monster you believe yourself to be. And if you need my forgiveness? Then I give it to you wholeheartedly, though, there is nothing to forgive. Do you understand?”

James nodded his head, a lump stuck in his throat. He felt so many different emotions all at once that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend what was happening to him. He jerkily took a tentative step forward and that was all Thomas needed to rush forward and envelope him in an embrace. James clutched onto the fabric of Thomas’ shirt, still frozen with shock over what had taken place. “I love you.” he whispered, not even realizing that he had said it.

“Gods, I love you too,” Thomas said in return, clutching on tighter, “I love you so much.”

Though James still had a long way to go, especially since he had been repressing his thoughts and feelings for years, recovery was now possible. There was a way for James to let go of his past and move forwards, there was a way that James could live without fear again, and for now, that was all that was needed.

 

_1875-1898_

_He lives a peaceful life alone, with just his dog on a farm. The one link to his past in Nassau is a brief glimpse of one of his former crew members, Muldoon. He apparently owns another farm a few miles away from his and they pass each other one day when they are both in town. Muldoon did not recognize him and James himself barely took note of the other man. He doesn't have much memory for insignificant crew members. It is only because Silver had been so distraught about Muldoon's death that he has left any impact in his mind._

_It is a peaceful life, though lonesome, the only one that actually has more good days than bad. An accident with a horse ends his life, and with it, the peace._

 

1980

They didn’t talk about James’ past much. James was still wary of bringing up the topic and Thomas didn’t want to upset him. Still Thomas would make sure to always let James know that he was loved and from time to time let him know that everything was okay. Whenever James woke up, gasping, from a nightmare, Thomas would gently rub his back and whisper over and over again that everything was alright. That he didn’t blame him, that it wasn’t his fault. It was those little things that helped.

One evening they were sitting on the couch, James reading one of his books, while Thomas was marking some papers. Thomas let out a chuckle, putting the paper down. “So that’s why you don’t drink alcohol.”

“What?”

Thomas smiled. “I’ve always wondered you know? I couldn’t figure it out, you said you didn’t like the taste, but I could never recall a time where you tried some. You always refused. Now I know why.”

James stared at him unimpressed. “Really? Took you this long to figure out?”

“Well that wasn’t really on the forefront of my mind now was it?”

James rolled his eyes. “Well now you know.” Thomas reached over and pushed a couple of strands of hair out of his face. They were starting to grey, much to James’ chagrin, but Thomas thought they were adorable. Really though, it was unfair — the grey hairs that no doubt littered Thomas’ head were nicely camouflaged between the blond strands, the lucky bastard.

“I still can’t believe you shaved your head though. What were you thinking?”

James pulled back. “I’m feeling quite attacked right now,” he said, though, he kept his voice light to show he took no offense. “Besides I looked very handsome. Perhaps I will do the same thing again soon. Would be better than seeing these ghastly locks.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” James shrugged his shoulders, sending a wink Thomas’ way. Thomas stared in outrage before jumping on top of him, attacking him with tickles and kisses. James let out peals of laughter trying to fight him off. They both fell off the couch, landing in a heap, with James on top. Thomas surged upward and slotted their lips together. James opened up and let Thomas lick his way into James’ mouth. Things quickly grew heated and soon James was grinding down on Thomas’ hardening cock, hissing as their clothed groins rubbed against each other.

“We should move this to the bedroom.” James gasped out, grinding down again. Thomas reached out and grasped James’ hips, holding him in place.

“Why?” he asked, “we’re still young, where’s your sense of adventure?” He trailed his lips down James’ jaw and down to his neck where he gave little nips along the skin that wouldn’t leave marks, but still sent heat straight down to James’ groin.

“Not as young as we used to be, besides, your back is going to be aching tomorrow if we continue,” James said, though he made no gesture to move, instead opting to ground down again, drawing out another moan from Thomas. Thomas moved his hands up James’ torso, pushing on the shirt. They both had far too much clothing on at the moment. James sat up and removed his shirt, while Thomas did the same with his. They quickly went back to kissing each other, James hands roaming over the plains and ridges of Thomas’ chest. “One of us still has to get up and get lube so we might as well move,” James mumbled.

Thomas snorted and reached out with his hand under the coach, pulling out an old bottle. James stared at it incredulously. “That things got to be at least a couple of years old.” James couldn’t remember the last time they had had sex on the floor and had no idea how Thomas could have remembered it being under there.

“So? It’s still good.”

“Yes, but it’s not your ass it’s going up.”

Thomas scowled, but turned the bottle over, examining it. His eyes alit in delight and he held it up to James. “Expires 1984! See, still good!” James rolled his eyes, but let himself be pulled down in another kiss. When Thomas grounded up against him, he forgot about his hesitations, grabbing the bottle and slicking his fingers.

“Why don’t I get to prepare you?” Thomas asked, reaching up to grab the bottle. James batted his hands away, crawling away and pulling down his trousers and pants.

“Because you are being a brat,” James said, straddling Thomas again, “and you love watching me open myself up.” Thomas smirked up at him and reached out to grasp James hips. James set to work pushing his fingers up into his body, moaning wantonly because he knew Thomas liked it when he was loud, and grinding down his hips every time he let his fingers brush over his prostrate. He loved doing this, being on display for his lover, having Thomas trail his eyes greedily over his body. Knowing it was because of him that Thomas was pushing his hard cock up against James’ body and letting out little groans. He could do this all day.

When he deemed himself ready, he positioned himself over Thomas’ cock and slowly pushed down. They both let out little gasps as James bottomed out. James slowly moved his hips in little circles, clenching down on the length, enjoying the way Thomas’ little gasps turned into drawn out moans. Thomas reached out and grasped onto James’ waist, pushing his hips up, causing him to brush against his prostrate, making James see stars.

With a soft moan, James started moving faster, building up a rhythm and losing himself in it. He loved the way Thomas felt inside of him, filling him up and making him feel whole again. They moved in unison, so familiar with each other’s bodies, yet each experience as exhilarating as the last. This time was no exception.

James moved his hands along Thomas’ torso, tweaking at the nipples, causing Thomas to buck up again with a shout. James smirked and pinched harder, loving how it made Thomas become more frantic and erratic.

He shifted a bit so that every time Thomas pushed up, he hit his prostate sending pulses of pleasure throughout James’ body. In retaliation, Thomas reached out and began stroking James’ cock, going in time with his thrusts. James let out a low groan, clenching down harder around Thomas, urging him to move faster. Together they went faster and faster, each searching for their own releases before finally coming in unison — Thomas shooting up inside of James, with James coming all over Thomas’ stomach.

With a laugh, James leaned down and kissed Thomas lazily for several long moments before finally getting up to get cleaned.

The next day Thomas complained about having a sore back. James just rolled his eyes, barely refraining from saying an ‘I told you so.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stop here if you want this to be a happy ending :)


	2. Letting go of demons

1982

It started out small as most things do. Just a little bruise that wouldn’t go away no matter how long time passed. It got to the point where Thomas would make jokes about the bruise, saying it loved him and couldn’t bare to part ways. The bruise was just the beginning.

Then came the shortness of breath, the fatigue, the pains in his chest.

Finally, they decided to go see a doctor, even though James didn’t trust any of them, and Thomas insisted that he was fine — he just needed more rest.

Cancer.

James didn’t recall which one it was, but in the end did it really matter? They said Thomas was in the late stages, that there wasn’t much hope. They would try chemo-therapy and other such things, but they cautioned them that it was likely too late for that.

James felt adrift. Lost at sea with no one around to help ground him. For the first time in all of his many lives things were actually going well. No, things were fucking perfect, and then what? It was like the gods were teasing him. Giving him just a slice of happiness before tearing it away, along with his heart.

“James…” Thomas said, trailing off. He seemed lost for words for the first time since James had known him… in both lives.

James stood in the hallway, staring at Thomas. There was nothing different about him, same hairstyle, same perfect blue eyes that lit up the world, same posture... same everything. How was it possible that he was sick? It didn't make sense, it wasn't _fair._

“No,” James said. Anger suddenly hitting him all at once. He would not stand for this, he did not believe in fate, and he damn sure as hell won’t let the gods laugh at him this time. “No. You are going to survive. You are going to get through this. We are going to get through this.”

His breath was coming out too fast; everything seemed to be spinning around him, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was letting everyone know that he would not let a stupid illness take his love away from him. He grabbed a vase and threw it across the room.

“James!” Thomas yelled, striding over to him and grabbing his shoulders, shaking him. James curled his hands into fists and beat against Thomas’ chest.

“You are _not_ going to die,” James sobbed out, jabbing Thomas’ chest with every other word. “You are not leaving me again.”

“James, please, calm down.”

“NO!”

Thomas pulled James against his chest and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. “Shh, it will be alright. I promise. It’ll be alright.”

"No it won't," James choked out, body still shaking with fury and despair, but now too weak to do anything about it. James knew that there was no way out of this, that this was just the start of another horrible ending. In the end this life wasn't all that different after all. Upon that thought, all the rage and fury seemed to leave James’ body and he collapsed against Thomas, sobbing into his shirt. Thomas kept whispering over and over again that things would be alright, that everything would be fine. James knew it wouldn’t be though, knew that when it came to him, nothing would ever be alright. He couldn’t do anything about it, though, except cling on and hope for the best. Hope that just this once things would be different. Just this once things would be better.

_1900-1917_

_He is thrust into a war that his body is far too young for. His mind is too old. He runs into Anne Bonnie, dressed as a man. He helps her get away with it, but he doesn’t understand why she wants to fight. Why does anyone want to fight?_

_She gets hurt and is sent to the first aid tent. James goes and visits her. She is being tended to by Miranda Barlow. James can only stare in surprise at the sight. Before he can approach them, his captain comes in and orders him back out to the trenches._

_He dies three days later in the cold, wet mud. His body is never recovered._

 

January 1983

Thomas gets up from his chair causing James to look up. “Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to get some more coffee,” Thomas replied, gesturing to his mug.

James got up and walked over taking the mug from Thomas’ hands. “I’ll get it for you. You sit back down.” James quickly went off into the kitchen, busying himself with the coffee machine and ignoring the stare at the back of his head.

“James.”

James hands shook as he lifted up the pot and poured the coffee into the mug. A couple of drops slipped onto his skin, but thankfully the coffee was lukewarm at this point. “James,” Thomas said again. James went over and put the mug in the microwave. It was important that he put the right time on, so that it wouldn’t be too hot, but still hot enough that it tasted good. A minute should do the trick.

“James, for fucks sakes, look at me!”

James whirled around in shock. Thomas never swore, like never. Not even when they got into arguments. He would always be the one who used sharp, but eloquent words that cut right to the bone, while James would be the one who had the sailor’s mouth. To be fair, though, he had been a pirate. To hear Thomas swear now, though, meant that something was definitely not right. “What?”

Thomas rolled his eyes and strode forward, jabbing James in the chest. “Stop treating me like a child.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are! Getting my coffee for me, making sure I have my lunch ready every day, holding doors open for me-”

“Oh, so me being a nice person means I’m treating you like a child? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you wanted to be treated like shit.” James pushed past Thomas and walked to the other side of the kitchen. To think that he was only trying to help Thomas and here he was, getting attacked for it.

Thomas let out a low growl. “You never did those things before, and the only reason you are doing them now is because I’m sick.” James clenched his jaw and looked down at his trembling hands. While Thomas may be on to something there, it didn’t mean that James had to admit it. “You have been tiptoeing around me, and I hate it! I’m a human being not a porcelain doll.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“That I’m not an invalid!”

All the air left James in one fell swoop. Flashes of memory came at James at all angles and everything hurt, oh how it hurt.

“James?”

The voice was distant, James wasn’t even certain that it was real. All James could focus on was the image of a young man lying by a window in pain. So much pain and there was nothing that James could do about it. He wanted to ease the pain, help him through that darkness, but he had his own demons, his own losses. He had too much pain inside of himself, how was he supposed to take on someone else’s? He failed, like he was failing now.

“James!”

There was that voice again, calling out for him, urging him to come back to the present. Awareness slowly came back to him and James realized he was on the kitchen floor. A steady hand was stroking up and down his back and there was something wet on his cheeks. He looked up, Thomas was kneeling beside him, concern evident in his eyes. James didn’t deserve him.

“There you are,” Thomas whispered, “You scared me for a second there. I thought I was the one who was supposed to be dying.”

James flinched. “Don’t.”

Thomas immediately grew somber again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t joke about such things. Can you tell me what happened? Did this have to do with your reincarnation thing?”

James grimaced, slowly shaking his head. He was not sure how to explain such a thing to Thomas, hell he didn’t understand it much himself. The stupid thing was he hadn’t even been thinking those thoughts when that memory had taken place, it was like he was telegraphing emotions from a different time onto that scenario. He knew he had to answer in some way though, so he looked up. “You are not an invalid, but I am scared. Fuck that, I’m terrified of losing you. I can’t and so I ask that you let me handle this… situation-”

“No.” Thomas shook his head, getting up. “No, you are going to deal with this in a different fashion. I will not be catered, I will not be coddled, I will not be babied. I understand that this is hard for you, but then it is on you to talk to me and we will sort this out together. Like we have done so many times before. You do not get to turn this around and make everything messed up because you are letting your emotions get the better of you.”

“Fuck you,” James snarled, “You’re the one who’s leaving me… again. And you don’t even remember the first time, fuck, you don’t even care. To you this is all just one big fucking adventure isn’t it?”

“Don’t you dare say that to me? Do you think I want to die? Do you think I want to leave you? How fucked up is that? I love you and it tears me apart that I’m being taken away from you, but I, unlike you, am trying to make the best of this.” Thomas let out a huff and shook his head. “Why am I even bothering trying to get that through your thick skull.”

He strode out of the kitchen and down the hall. James could here the sound of the closet door being opened and a coat being taken out. Panic welled up inside James and he hurried after him. “Thomas, wait.”

“James, I’m not in the mood,” Thomas snarled, angrily shoving his feet in his shoes. James knew he couldn’t let Thomas leave like this, not when he needed to know how excruciating this all was for him.

“I never said goodbye. To both.” Thomas paused, and turned to James, a puzzled frown marring his features. James closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I never got to say goodbye to you or… the point is, I’m coddling you because if I’m there, if I’m around then this time… this time I’ll get to say it. I’ll get to say goodbye.” It physically hurt to speak and James felt his whole body tremble.

Thomas slowly walked forward and enveloped him in a hug. “I’m not going to drop dead any second alright? You’ll know when the time is near and then you’ll be able to say your goodbyes. Okay? I won’t leave without saying goodbye. I promise.”

It was a dark promise, one with little hope, but it helped steady James nonetheless. It was something he could cling to, something he could guarantee. Until Thomas said his goodbye, he would still be with him.

 

February 1983

James could only watch as the hair fell off. Soft tufts of blond hair that were easily shaken loose when you ran your fingers through it. What was left was just skin, horribly pale skin that didn’t deserve to ever see the sun’s rays. Thomas joked that this was payback for James cutting off his hair in the past. James didn’t find that funny.

That wasn’t the worst of it though, the worst was how sick Thomas got. How his stomach got upset, and he would throw up buckets upon buckets. It didn’t seem to stop, no matter what they did. James could only sit beside him and rub his back slowly, while holding onto the bucket. At least there was no hair for him to hold back, Thomas said. He was ever the optimist, even with something like this.

That was only the start.

 

March 1983

There was a special outdoor symphony playing near where they lived, and James thought it would be a good idea to take Thomas out to it. They hadn’t been doing much lately and James knew Thomas was going stir crazy sitting in the house. He had to stop working due to his illness, and with James at the bakery all day, did not have much to do.

So, James packed a picnic and dragged Thomas out to the park where the symphony was playing. There were quite a few people who had the same idea, but James managed to find them a good spot to lay down their blanket.

Thomas moved about gingerly, almost afraid to make any sudden movements. James wished he could help in some way. The special today was Tchaikovsky. James had only known him from the Nutcracker, but apparently he had done much more than just those pieces.

Thomas enjoyed it thoroughly and it was such a delight to see the smile that graced his features as he watched the orchestra play. The soft glow of the sunset enhancing his features making him seem all the more beautiful. James wished he could capture this moment in his bare hands, make time stop and never let go.

Applause erupted around them as the song came to an end. The conductor turned to address the audience, but James wasn’t paying attention. Thomas turned and caught James’ eye, smiling at him in return. He reached down and picked up a grape, rolling it in his hands for a couple of seconds before reaching out and placing it up to James’ lips. James carefully pulled the offered fruit into his mouth, relishing in the way the sweet juices burst out upon his tongue.

Thomas chuckled lowly, then turned around and settled against James’ chest as the orchestra started up once again. “This is lovely, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” James whispered, placing a kiss to Thomas’ temple and wrapping his arms tighter around his lover. He closed his eyes and let the music wash through him, letting himself for just this moment, forget all his troubles and worries. Just letting himself enjoy the moment, enjoy the music.

 

April 1983

“James, sit down. I want to talk to you.” Thomas was sitting at the dining room table, hands folded, staring at the vase of flowers at the centre with a steady concentration. James felt a bit of trepidation as he took his seat.

“What?”

“I’m dying.”

James nearly rolled his eyes as he clenched his jaw. “Yes, I’m perfectly aware of that,” he spat out.

Thomas glared at him in return. “And when I die I do not want to leave you in this state.”

James could not believe what he was hearing. Leave him in this state? What the fuck was Thomas getting at? “Oh and how do you want to leave me? With me being all happy and laughing? Cause I can assure you, that’s not going to happen.”

Thomas sighed. “No, I mean, haunted by your past. Ever since you have told me about… everything that has happened to you, you refuse to discuss further. It still torments you to no end.”

“It does-”

“You still get nightmares,” Thomas interrupted, “You still wake up, gasping others’ names. You still stare off into the distance with a haunted look on your face. You are still scared. And I can’t leave you knowing that I’m just going to add to your pain.”

“Fuck you,” James croaked out. As far as he was concerned, Thomas leaving him was going to do irreparable damage.

“You can be better. You can come to accept your past and get beyond it, make peace with it. I know you can, but the only way you can do that is if you talk about it. I have let you deal with your troubles by yourself for years, which I now realize was a mistake. I should have gotten you to open up long before you did and start addressing your problems, but I didn’t. Now, with what’s happening, I will not stand on the sidelines any longer. You will talk to me.”

“There is nothing to talk about.” James himself could hear the lie as he said those words, but he was not going to go back down memory lane. He had already done it once; Thomas should realize that he did not have the strength to do so again.

“Bullshit. You have a million and one demons yelling at you inside your head. Take Billy Bones for example.”

James frowned. Out of all the people Thomas could bring up, Billy was the last one he would have expected — he had hardly mentioned him to Thomas.

“You saved him when he was just a kid, you watched him grow up, watched him grow to hate you, yet love you at the same time. Watched him grow scared and confused and torn, and knowing you were part of the reason for that. And still, he was the one person who was there, at you side, when you died. Was with you until the end, and you died knowing that he was being left in a world where everyone who used to know him wanted him dead. Don’t tell me you don’t feel guilt over this.”

James could not wrap his head around how much he had gathered about that one man by just a few mentions in his story. It made James wonder what he had gathered about the other people he had mentioned. The thought made him queasy. “Billy made his own decisions.”

“Yes, but you still think it’s your fault.”

James didn’t respond, instead favoring to scowl down at the table, crushing a few crumbs that hadn’t been cleaned up from their lunch.

“Am I wrong?”

The nerve of that man. “Fine. Yes, you’re right. It was my fault. It was my fault that an innocent young man became this unrecognizable creature because of me, because I took away his father figure, because I let him have his first kill, because I let…” James stopped, memories of what he had done washing over him to a paralyzing degree. With a shudder he quickly snapped out of it. “It’s my fault. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Good,” Thomas replied, “now let it go.”

“What?”

“You did wrong by him, but that was in the past. That was hundreds of years ago and not one of those people are alive today to remember what happened. If they are alive in this lifetime, then they don’t care. They don’t stay awake dreaming of what happened and so neither should you. Billy had an unfortunate life, but that wasn’t all your fault. He made his own decisions and you have to respect that.”

“Those decisions revolved around me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Thomas said patiently, “What happened… happened. It can’t be changed; it can’t be undone, but it can be forgiven.”

James breathed deeply, he looked up to stare out the window. It was a nice day outside, the first signs of spring starting to make itself known in the garden. James could still feel the sense of regret and guilt when he thought of Billy, but for the first time he could see that it was okay to feel that. It was okay to admit that he had done wrong, but that at this point in time those acts no longer mattered.

A strange sort of weightlessness settled over him that he hadn’t ever experienced before. He couldn’t describe what it was, but it felt almost nice in a way. “I’ll try.” James said sincerely.

Thomas smiled. “That’s all I ask for.”

 

May 1983

James, in a fit of madness, got up one morning and packed a bunch of clothes into suitcases and some food in a cooler. “Come, we are going on a road trip.”

Thomas watched his madness with a confused expression on his adorable face. “Don’t we have to tell someone?”

James turned around in exasperation. “Why? We’re grown men. We can take care of ourselves. I want to go on a road trip, so we are going on a road trip.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the spontaneous one in this relationship?” Thomas asked, still looking skeptical about the whole idea.

James rolled his eyes. “Well you haven’t been very spontaneous lately, so I was getting antsy and decided to do your job for you.”

That at least made Thomas chuckle, and he got to work helping James pack up essentials. Within a few hours they were on the road, not looking back.

“Where are we going?”

James shrugged, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Wherever you want to go.”

Thomas was silent for awhile, staring out the window in thought. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision. “Let’s go back to my old university. I want to see what has happened there since we left.”

James looked over at Thomas in surprise. They hadn’t been back there since they had left and they most certainly hadn’t kept in contact with anyone. “Are you sure?”

Thomas nodded his head, so up north they went. It took a couple of days, with lots of stops for Thomas’ health, but they made it there at last. A lot had changed to the place, some stuff was to be expected — cars were modernized, more streets and houses put in — but other stuff seemed weird. The park that used to be beside the river was now a factory, there were more high rises and office spaces. It felt almost corporate. The reality of where the world was heading crashed down heavily on James. He didn’t know whether he liked it or not.

They walked amongst the streets, not really sure where to go. Thomas, despite wanting to go back here, didn’t actually want to go to the university, so instead they looked for a familiar restaurant. Most of their favourite eating places had closed down, but finally they came upon one that they remembered. It was a little café that, if James recalled correctly, had been run by an elderly lady during their time there.

When they entered the hostess of the place looked up, then to their surprise, ran over and gave Thomas a big hug. James and Thomas looked at each other in surprise.

“Sorry,” she said with a laugh, pulling back, “you probably think I’m weird.”

“Oh, not at all,” Thomas reassured, “just surprised. I’m not used to being greeted by hugs.”

“No, I don’t usually do that either, it’s just that, you changed my life and I’ve always wanted to thank you for that, but I never dreamed of having the chance.”

Thomas looked visibly flustered, and James had to admit that he was quite confused as well. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I’m Janet Reeves, and I was in your last class that you taught up at the university.”

“Ah,” said Thomas in understanding, but he was still confused as to how he had changed the woman’s life.

“It’s just that, I had always been confused about what was wrong with me. I had never liked boys or been interested in them in any way, and I always felt so lost when my friends would talk about them in such a way. Then it came out that you were a homosexual, and what that meant, and I realized I was the same… well not exactly the same, I like women, but you get the point.”

“So I helped you realize who you are,” Thomas said with a smile.

Janet shook her head. “Not just that, but you also showed me that it wasn’t wrong to be that way. Everyone around me was saying how disgusting that was, but you stuck to your ways and insisted that there was nothing wrong with that, and that helped me realize that there was nothing wrong with me either.”

“Of course there isn’t.”

“And look, you’re still with your partner, and I’ve been with mine for five years now, and I wouldn’t have had that without you.”

Thomas beamed widely, and reached out to pull her into another hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

Janet laughed again. “Oh, but where are my manners? Come have a seat, your meal is on the house.”

“You are too kind.” Thomas protested, but Janet wouldn’t here anything of it. “How did you come by this place anyways?”

“Oh, my grandmother passed it on to me when she passed away. She was the first person I told and she couldn’t have been more supportive.”

“Oh good!”

“Yeah, but anyways, I’ll leave you two to look over the menu. Just saying, but the chicken pot pie is everyone’s favourite.”

She gave another smile before walking away to help another table. Thomas looked back at James, eyes bright with joy. “See, this is why love is so important. It can achieve the greatest of things.”

James nodded his heads, feeling tears well up in his eyes. This chance encounter had done wonders to Thomas, making him look more alive than he had in weeks. It was a better medicine than anything any doctor of physician could have prescribed to him. Perhaps there had been a reason to come back here after all. 

 

June 1983

They were sitting at the kitchen table, slowly enjoying their breakfast. Thomas was doing a crossword puzzle, while James was reading the newspaper. Thomas suddenly looked up with a frown. “Was the first world war the only time you encountered Miranda?”

James frowned as he looked up from the paper. He could not see where this conversation was coming from. “Yes…”

“Oh,” said Thomas softly, looking back down at his crossword. James continued to stare at Thomas, trying to figure him out. He knew when Thomas wanted to say something, but didn’t want to intrude. Now was one of those times.

“Just spit it out,” James finally said, getting annoyed with Thomas’ antics.

Thomas looked up with a little quirk of a smile at the corner of his lips. He then grew serious, though, and seemed to ponder his words over carefully before responding. “It’s just that I feel you couldn’t have had time to resolve much with her when you barely had time to talk.”

“We didn’t get a chance to talk. I don’t think she even noticed me.” James realized what Thomas was trying to get at here. This was about his unresolved issues again. He had hoped after Billy that he would have dropped it, and to give himself credit, James had been reviewing his past and starting to come to terms with the things he had done. There was still a long way to go, but he no longer felt quite so scared when he delved down memory lane. Now though, it seemed that Thomas was determined to bring it up again, even if it was a couple months later.

“Strange.”

“Could you not be the philosopher for once in your life and speak plainly?” James asked.

Thomas shook his head. “I just feel that you should be given the opportunity to make peace with what happened to her, yet your second life you had with her did not lend that opportunity.”

James shrugged. “That is the way of my lives. They are cruel and unnecessary. I hardly feel that they have any rhyme or reason to them.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

James raised an eyebrow, but Thomas did not go further down that subject. “I sadly don’t remember Miranda, but from what you’ve told me, she was a very head strong character. I doubt she would have blamed you for her death.”

James bit his tongue, but he couldn’t hide the irritation that must have shown over his face. Thomas noticing it, chuckled. “I do hope you find her again. I feel she would be better at this than me.”

“So that’s what this is— therapy.”

Thomas shrugged. “I would prefer to call it… reconciliation. Though I must say, from what I’ve gathered, it wasn’t your fault — her death — so don’t blame yourself for it.”

“It was my fault that the life she led in Nassau was so horrible.”

“Much of that was beyond your control.”

James brought his coffee up to his lips. The drink was now cold making him wrinkle his nose in disgust.

“Look for her, if you can,” Thomas said, “I do believe talking to her will help you relieve many of your struggles you have on her behalf, even if she doesn’t remember.”

James scowled. “What’s the point when she will likely leave me too.”

“You know I’m trying to help you here?” Thomas said, getting up. “You’re not the only one who drew the short straw in this situation.”

James immediately felt guilty. He watched as Thomas left the room, knowing that he was out of line. He wished he was strong enough to help Thomas through this time, but whenever he looked at him he saw constant reminders of what was inevitably going to happen.

_Nothing is inevitable here._

Well looks like your wrong there, Silver, James thought bitterly. He leaned back in his chair going over this life in his mind. Aside from this, it had been a good life. Scratch that, it had been a great life. Perhaps James should focus more on the positives instead of the negatives, be grateful for what he had gotten instead of wishing for could haves. After all, who else was lucky enough to have a second life with their truest love? 

 

July 1983

They slowly walked out to Bubble’s grave. James carrying the tree, Thomas just struggling to stay upright. The surrounding area had become overgrown with weeds and wildflowers. The stone that marked where the old dog lay just barely peeking up between the shrubs. They stopped and stared at the marker for awhile, just paying their respects and reliving memories. A lump stuck in James throat as he realized that soon it was going to be just him coming up here. Reliving two loved ones’ memories while staring at two markers.

Thomas reached out and rubbed James’ shoulder gently. “I still feel like he’s with us.” James could only stare at Thomas. He knew what he was trying to do, but it didn’t make James feel any better. Breaking away, he reached down and picked up the shovel, burying it in the dirt.

He worked in silence while Thomas sat to the side, watching. When he deemed the hole big enough, he reached out and grabbed the tiny tree.

“I thought we were supposed to do this together.”

James looked over guiltily. It was becoming a habit now — doing work for Thomas. Now that the disease was spreading a bit more Thomas let him get away with it, but he still, from time to time, called James out on it. He stopped what he was doing and waited for Thomas to come over. Thomas smiled over at him to show no harm was done.

Carefully, Thomas reached out and lowered the plant into the ground, patting the dirt back into place. James joined in till the tree was firmly planted in the ground. A new life to replace an ending one.

“Grow strong my little one,” Thomas whispered to the tree, stroking one of its leaves, “and take care of James for me.”

“Thomas…” James warned, but Thomas continued on unheeded.

“Make sure he’s happy, alright? And that he doesn’t waste away. He’s supposed to eat three square meals a day, and that means real meals, not those ghastly microwave things that have started appearing in stores. I wish for him to find laughter and friends and perhaps even love. Most of all, make sure that he forgives himself.” At this point Thomas looked up, looking directly into James’ eyes. “He is tormented by his past, no matter what he says to avoid it. So help him overcome his nightmares, help him let go, because he deserves the world… and I love him.”

James looked down at his hands. He hated how Thomas could undo him like that. How he knew him so well and knew what he needed, but that didn’t change the fact that he was still leaving him. “How can a tree do all that?”

“It’s what the tree represents. Besides, you’d be surprised how much an seemingly insignificant creature can affect your life. Don’t be so quick to judge when you haven’t even given it a chance.”

James looked down at the little tree and slowly reached out to feel a leaf. It was smooth to the touch and very delicate, it would be so easy to snap it off, cutting off its source of energy. Instead, James felt the need to protect it. One day it would be bigger than him, stronger than him, but for now, he needed to foster it. Help it grow into its potential, and that was exactly what James planned on doing.   

 

August 1983

“You do know that I don’t blame you for killing my father,” Thomas said.

James raised an eyebrow. “As far as I know, your father is still alive and breathing.”

Thomas chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

James nodded, knowing full well where Thomas was going with this. “I hated him, and I won’t lie, I still do. I find him a despicable man and I cannot fathom how you are at all related to him.”

“I was adopted.”

“You were?!”

Thomas burst out laughing. “You should have seen the look on your face!” James rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Very funny,” James said, “anyways, as I was saying. He, in my mind, was the cause of many of my demons and if you are asking me to forgive him, I don’t think I can.”

“I’m not asking you to forgive him,” Thomas said, “I just don’t want you to always feel like their actions will define you. You have had these opportunities to move forward in a new life and you always seem to be haunted by what you do, by what they made you do. I want you to move past that.”

“And by they you mean…?”

“My father, Peter Ash, England, whoever betrayed or hurt you. Move past it. Acknowledge that they hurt you, but I want you to move on. It’s been hundreds of years. You deserve better than the choices they made for you.”

James silently nodded his head. It was weird to see it in that light, but oddly freeing in a way. While he couldn’t forgive, he could forget, and that was not something that had ever occurred to him before.

 

September 1983

It was a rainy September day, perfect for staying indoors and playing a couple of board games. They started out with just playing cards, but it evolved into various other board games. Somehow they ended up at Clue, which was a game James excelled at, but Thomas always cheated at.

“There is no secret passageway between the lounge room and the billiard room.”

“But it stands to reason that if the architect was to make secret passageways, he would make them all connect to each room.”

“No, because that wouldn’t make sense. There is absolutely no need for someone to make a passageway between those two rooms. If you want to get to the billiard room take the secret passageway to the Conservatory then hop on over.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to go to the Conservatory, I want to go to the billiard room.”

“Then wait till your next turn.”

“But you are going to win then.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do, I see it in your eyes, and I just need to check on one more thing before I have it.”

James stared at Thomas in exasperation. “Well, that’s your problem. Now either go to the Conservatory or role the damn die.”

“Please,” Thomas said, blinking his eyes up morosely at James. James groaned and covered his face, knowing that if Thomas kept it up, James would give in.

“Pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

“Fine,” James sighed. Thomas cheered happily and went over to the billiard room. Sure enough, Thomas won the game.

 

October 1983

“When you say that you raised Eleanor in one of your lives, does that mean that you have let everything go with her?” Thomas asked.

James sighed, guess it was his monthly therapy session time. “Yes. I have forgiven her for turn coating and I understand why she did so. Happy?”

“But what about Woodes Rogers?”

James snorted. “Trust me, out of all the people that have harmed and hurt me in the past, Woodes Rogers is so far down that list, I don’t even register him. I hold no grief or resentment towards him. He was an idiot, and I have not thought about him in… well since he died.”

Thomas smiled. “Good.”

They had gone through many of James demons and this was nearing the end of them. James had never felt lighter in his life; it was like he was a new man. He no longer felt that heavy pressure on him, pushing him down and yelling at him of his sins. He was actually grateful that Thomas had made him confront his demons.

Now he could actually focus on Thomas and make sure that he had all the comforts in the short time he had left in this world.

 

November 1983

Having Thomas be admitted in the hospital permanently made everything that much immanent. That much more real. Thomas was really going to die. This was it, this was the end. All the thoughts of this being a good life, being grateful for what he had, flew out the window. It wasn’t fair.

Seeing Thomas lie in the little bed, bones now prominent on his cheeks, and wires attached to his skin painted a bleak picture of what was to happen. This shouldn’t be this way. Thomas should be out in the sun, with hair ruffling in the wind, and meat upon his bones.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright,” Thomas rasped, looking over at him. There was worry evident in his eyes and James couldn’t have that. He had promised himself that he would be there for Thomas every step of the way. Thomas needed him now more than ever so James was duty bound to not let him down.

James forced a smile on his face and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “I know. I just think the room’s a bit bland, don’t you think? Definitely needs more colour.”

To James’ relief, Thomas smiled, the worry easing off his features. “I agree, perhaps you could bring that Spanish blanket over. That would cheer things up a bit.”

James nodded, forcing his tears away. “I do believe it will and what about your mother’s vase? That would look perfect by your bedside.”

James knew he was just rambling on at this point, but Thomas was smiling and that was all that mattered. From this point forward it would be all about him, his worries and demons no longer mattered. From this point forward James would ensure that Thomas would get the most out of his remaining months. He would make sure of it.

 

December 1983

The snow drifted down steadily outside of the hospital, tacky decorations adorned the hallways and from time to time Christmas music echoed throughout the halls. In the morning the place had been busy with families visiting their loved ones, but now in the late afternoon, things had died down.

James sat in his signature chair reading an old newspaper while Thomas did the crossword. They hadn’t said much to each other that day. Perhaps it was from lack of interesting topics up for discussion, but then again, the more likely reason was because this day held a heavy weight upon both of their shoulders. It would be their last Christmas together.

James wasn’t sure when was the right time to give Thomas his gift. He wasn’t even sure that it was the right gift to give. It was sitting in his bag in the corner, calling out to be opened, but the opportunity never seemed to present itself. He didn’t want it to be awkward since Thomas would have had no chance to get him a gift in return. Not that James wanted anything, just being able to spend time with Thomas was good enough for him.

There was a knock on the door. Both of them looked up with a start to see Peggy, their neighbour, standing there with a big smile on her face. “I got what you asked for,” she said.

Thomas beamed, holding out his hands. “Thank you so much dear. You are the best.”

“Oh, it was no worries. You both have been the best neighbours a lady could ask for. You deserve all the love and joy in the world.” Peggy started tearing up at this point, and James being the ever gentleman, quickly stood up and offered her a tissue.

“Oh look at me, I’m a mess,” she said, handing over the box to Thomas and taking the offered tissue, “it’s Christmas. Everyone should be happy.”

“Thank you Peggy, why don’t you take a seat,” Thomas offered. James still stood to the side, not sure what to do. He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Peggy was here in the first place.

“Oh no, I have got to get back to my family. They’re making a big turkey for dinner — aren’t they sweet? Besides, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your Christmas. I’m sure you two want to spend as much time together as possible.”

“Thank you,” Thomas said. James nodded his head as well and escorted her out of the room. Once she was gone James turned back to Thomas with a raised eyebrow. “What was that about?”

Thomas smiled and held out the box. “Merry Christmas!”

A lump grew in James’ throat and he stumbled forward, taking the offered parcel. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Oh don’t be silly, of course I had to. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t get you a gift?”

James chocked out a laugh, clutching onto the box tightly. With trembling fingers he opened it up. Inside was a scrap book, full of photos, mementos, and little stories of all of their adventures. All of their years together, recorded and placed down to be forever cherished. James let out a gasp, running his hands over the pages. “How?”

“I got Peggy to go in and get the pictures and stuff to make it. She loves arts and crafts and was tickled pink to be able to do this for me.”

James lower lip started trembling and he had to bite it to keep it still. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Thomas smiled and reached over to brush away a tear that had fallen down James’ cheek. “I couldn’t leave you with nothing, now could I?”

James shook his head, unable to speak. Then he remembered his gift. He quickly got up and rushed over, grabbing the present. He hesitantly handed it over to Thomas, uncertainty thrumming through him. “It’s not much. Just something I found, and well… yeah.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” Thomas said with a smile. Carefully he peeled back the wrapping paper, letting out a small gasp with what he saw inside — an old copy of Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations. With trembling fingers he picked up the old book, running his fingers over the cover.

“Is this the original?”

James laughed, shaking his head. “No, there is no actual original. This is an old copy of the 1862 adaptation that I found in a used book store.”

Thomas nodded, opening the cover, he paused upon reading what was written inside —

_Thomas,_

_My truest love,_

_Thank you for believing in me,_

_James_

“Always,” Thomas whispered.

 

January 1984

It was another cold winters day and James was once again sitting at his bedside seat. Thomas was not having a good day, so James tried to not get on his nerves too much.

Thomas kept moving around back and forth, complaining about a pain in his lower back, then it was his thighs, then it was his neck. He couldn’t seem to get comfortable.

“Fuck,” he muttered, turning around once again.

“Is there anything I can do?” James asked. Thomas shot him a glare, making James quickly look back down at the book he was reading. It was wise to not interfere when Thomas got in a snappy mood.

Thomas continued to groan and shuffle about for several minutes, then he suddenly stopped moving altogether. “Read to me,” he burst out.

James looked up in surprise. “You want me to read to you?” Thomas nodded. “Okay,” James said with a shrug, turning his book back to the start.

“No,” complained Thomas, “read this.” He pushed Meditations over to James.

James chuckled. “You have already read it three times if I’m not mistaken.”

Thomas shot him a pointed glare. “Yes, but I’ve never heard it from your voice, so get on it.”

James rolled his eyes, but gently took the book in his hands. “Is there a specific section you want me to read?”

Thomas waved his hand. “Wherever.”

James nodded and opened the book at random. From there he softly read the melodic words, letting them create a life of their own on the dreary cold winter’s day. They floated out creating a tranquility that was so seldom found in the hospital, and as he read Thomas calmed down. He stopped fidgeting so much, and his eyelids grew heavy.

After awhile, he was swept off away to the comfort of dreams where James hoped he was happy and content. Without knowledge of pain or suffering.

 

February 1984

“You never mentioned seeing John Silver in any of your reincarnated lives.”

James looked up from his book. At first he thought he had misheard Thomas, but one look at Thomas’ piercing eyes told him he had not. Sighing he put the book down, guess Thomas was not done with his therapy sessions then. There hadn’t been any in awhile now, and James had thought they were done with them. James had to admit, he had hoped that Silver would not be brought up. He doubted, even now, he could talk about him, the pain was still too raw. “That’s because I haven’t.”

Thomas frowned slightly, but then nodded his head and closed his eyes. James stared for several long minutes, waiting for Thomas to say something, anything. Instead, Thomas’ breathing slowed down to indicate he had fallen asleep. James couldn’t help but feel a bit troubled by that. What was the point of that? To just bring back bad memories? Perhaps Thomas did not realize the extent of which James’ demons revolved around that other man. At least James hoped so. If Thomas knew the depth of love and fear he carried for Silver, he might not see James in the same light.

In a way, Silver had meant more to James than Thomas had, and that was not something James ever wished to explore.

 

March 1984

It was late at night, all the sounds were muted and the lights dimmed. James wasn’t supposed to be in the hospital, but one of the nurses had taken pity on him and allowed him to stay. He sat, curled up in a seat beside Thomas’ bed, watching the other man slowly breath in and out. Each breath seemed to drag out in an agonizing fashion that made James’ heart clench.

It wouldn’t be long now, maybe a couple more months at best. James was still terrified of the thought. What would happen to him when Thomas died? How would he cope? The darkness provided no answers.

 

April 1984

“You loved John Silver didn’t you.”

James inadvertently crushed the cup of coffee he was holding, spilling the drink all over his hand. He paid no notice to it. “Don’t.”

“You were together for how many years? Ten? Fifteen? Much longer than you and I in that lifetime.”

“We are not talking about this.”

“We have to.”

“No we don’t,” James said, getting up.

Thomas sent a sharp look at James from where his position on the bed. Even looking so frail and weak, his stare could still stop James cold. “I’m not stupid. There was a reason I didn’t bring him up sooner, knowing that it would help you get through this if your other demons were laid to rest. But I cannot go to my grave without discussing with you the other love of your life.”

“He wasn’t-”

“He hurt you. And you hurt him, and there is no getting around that. You have regretted what you did to him, and you hate what he did to you. Am I wrong?”

James could not handle this conversation at the moment. “He made his own choices, he made his own decisions. I have accepted that and moved on. End of story.”

“Yet, you still love him.”

“No I Don’t.”

“Stop kidding yourself.”

“Why are you bringing this up? Why now? What does it matter? I have never seen him again, and I don’t want to. So why bring this up?”

“Because you will.”

James froze. Thomas stared steadily at James with a knowing look in his eye. “You are terrified of what you will do when you meet him. Will you fight him? Kill him even? Or will you run away? All those options seem viable to you right now, but I am telling you that when you do meet him, that you approach him, shake his hand and introduce yourself.”

“What?” James gasped out, not believing what he was hearing.

“You won’t regret it.”

“What is this bullshit?” James said, “why on earth would I ever want to associate myself with him again?”

“Because the only way you will be able to move on is if you accept what happened between the two of you and try to work around it.”

“And how the fuck is that supposed to happen if he won’t even remember me?”

“I believe it will all work out in the end,” Thomas said cryptically. James hated it when he spoke like that. He also couldn’t believe they were actually having this conversation right now.

“Ask yourself this James, why did his betrayal hurt so much? Why did him leaving tear you apart and make you let go? I didn’t, Miranda didn’t, but Silver? You lost everything because of him, but only because you let him take it all. Why did you let him do that?”

James’ breathes came out shallowly as images and feelings from all those years ago came back to the forefront of his mind. All those heart wrenching memories trickled through, showing themselves to him in ways he hadn’t registered before. “I was tired. I didn’t want to fight anymore.”

“Why not?”

James looked down at his hands, remembering the way Silver’s hair became tousled in the wind. How his bright blue eyes held so many emotions, so many secrets. “Because I was broken and in the end, he deserved to be free. He wanted to be free and I couldn’t give him that.”

“So you let him betray you.”

James nodded his head.

 

May 1984

Each shuddering breath Thomas took seemed harder than the last. James wished with every fibre of his being that he could take the pain and put it on himself. It wasn’t fair to see him suffer so and be able to do nothing.

He grasped onto Thomas’ hand, hoping that the touch could be of some comfort in some way, but fearing also that it was unwanted.

There was no fat left on Thomas’ body. The skin on his face had sunk in and his cheekbones were jutting out unnaturally. The hand he was holding was small and frail, James could easily wrap all his fingers around the wrist where before the middle finger and thumb could have barely met. It was heartbreaking to see what had become of such a great man.

“James,” Thomas rasped out. James looked up into the blue eyes, which were now sunken into his face. Even some of the precious gleam was gone from them, leaving them almost dull and flat. “James, promise me…” He broke off into a bunch of harsh rattling coughs that shook his whole body.

James leaned forward and rubbed his back, attempting to sooth him in any way. “Shh, take it easy. Don’t tire yourself out.”

Thomas let out a weak laugh and shook his head. “James listen to me. I’m going to be dying soon.”

James shook his head. “No… no you’re not.” It was times like these that he refused to see the reality so quickly approaching.

“James!” Thomas said harshly, gripping onto James’ hand before he could leave. “There’s no getting around it. You know this.”

James closed his eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks. Even with all the evidence stacked against them, James was still holding on for a miracle. Something that would for once change the tide in their favour. Seeing Thomas looking up at him imploringly now made it come clear in the most horrible fashion. There would be no magical saviour coming to save the day.

James collapsed into the chair beside the bed, clutching onto Thomas’ hand as if the act would make a difference to what was coming. “It’s not fair,” he choked out.

“I know,” whispered Thomas, reaching out with his other hand to wipe away some of the tears lining James’ face.

A thought struck James and he grasped onto it with all his might. Maybe this wasn’t the end after all. “I’ll see you in the next life. I’ll keep searching and searching until I find you and we can be together again.” The thought made him almost giddy, this wouldn’t be the end. No, this could just be the beginning.

Thomas smiled sadly. “I don’t think you’ll see me again.”

James’ thoughts stopped short. “What?”

Thomas looked down, taking a deep shuddering breath before looking back at James. “It has come clear to me now that you have been living these lives in an attempt for your soul to heal before it can be put to rest. Your life in Nassau was filled with so much pain and suffering that you needed time to come to terms with what had happened to you. In the first couple hundreds of years you needed to learn to let go of your anger and hate.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Let me continue,” Thomas said. James nodded his head, chagrined. “You have done that now — let go of your anger and hate — and now you needed to start accepting what has happened to you. Part of that process was needing to meet me again. To ask for my forgiveness for everything that happened after my death. You needed me to accept what you did in my name, and I have. I understand what you have done and why you did it, and I love you all the more for it. I hate that I was part of the reason you suffered so much pain, and I hold no blame to you.”

Thomas broke off in another bought of coughing. James’ mind was racing. He had never thought about his lives having a purpose before; he was always under the impression that he was cursed. “So you’re saying that when I die, I’ll finally be able to rest?”

Thomas shook his head. “You’re not at peace yet. You have one final piece that you need to confront before you can do so. You need to meet John Silver again.”

James pulled back, his mind a muddled mess. “Silver? Why would I need to confront him again? I have forgiven him for what he did, made peace with his actions. Why would…”

“You may have forgiven him, but you need him to forgive you too, and that is why you need to see him again.”

James looked into Thomas’ eyes shaking his head. “I don’t care about that. I want to be with you, I just want you.” His voice cracked at the end, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks. “Why are you leaving me?”

“Oh James,” Thomas said, “From what you’ve told me, we just had a couple of months, maybe half a year together in your first life. We had forty years together here. Forty blessed years full of joy, tears, laughter, and love. This has been a blessing.”

James shook his head adamantly. “And we should have had forty more. Forty more years of memories and adventures and… and…” James could hardly see Thomas through the tears blurring his eyes. His heart felt like it was breaking in two and the pain was unbearable.

“James… James…” Thomas said, grasping onto James’ hand. “Promise me you’ll find happiness again. Promise me you’ll love again.” His voice was growing weaker with each word and James knew he would soon fall asleep again. Pulling himself back together, he leaned forward and kissed Thomas on the forehead.

“Promise me,” Thomas said sharply, eyes boring into James’. Struggling to hold back another sob he nodded his head brokenly.

“I promise.”

Thomas smiled and relaxed back into the covers, falling to sleep.

_1921-1932_

_He is a sickly child, with never much meat on his bones. Once the depression started he didn’t stand a chance. He dies of a mixture of malnourishment and sickness. It is the only life that he doesn’t remember._

June 1984

It was a bright sunny day. James stood by the window in Thomas’ room, watching a bird twitter away on one of the tree’s branches. “Thomas, you should look at this.” When no answer came, he turned around to find Thomas sleeping, breaths coming out at an ever slowing pace. It wouldn’t be long now.

A lump was growing in James’ throat and his hands started shaking, but he managed to hold back his tears. He walked carefully over to the bed and looked down at his lover. He was just a ghost of the man he used to be, all pale skin and frail bones. He was still beautiful though. Still his perfect Thomas.

He reached out to caress his cheek, the skin was cold to the touch. James knew he would not wake up again. It was time to say goodbye. He leaned down and planted a kiss on Thomas’ forehead.

“Thank you, for forty extra years.”

 

Thomas Hamilton passed away on June 8th 1984 at 9:03am.

 

 

On October 16th 1984 James McGraw passed away from unknown causes.

 

 

On August 3rd 1985, James Flint was born to Elizabeth and Frank Flint.

 

 

On January 25th 1987, Elizabeth and Frank Flint died in a car crash, leaving James Flint an orphan.

 

 

On March 4th 1987, a self made woman by the name of Miranda Barlow adopted James Flint.

 

 

On March 25th 2016, James Flint goes by the name James Barlow and owns a multi-billion-dollar bank corporation by the name of Walrus Corp. He lives a peaceful life on his own, but still remains in good relations with his adopted mother, and is so far, content with his life until this day. On March 25th 2016 he runs into John Silver.

**Author's Note:**

> Stop reading here if you want a happy ending :)


End file.
